


Rescue Me

by lyraonyx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brief past Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape, F/F Pregnancy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione is caught in the middle, Homophobia, M/M, Ministry of Magic, More tags as necessary, Mostly Gen, Mostly Post-War, Mpreg, Post-War, Pureblood Politics, Rise of new Dark Lord, Ron Bashing, Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 79,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14017554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyraonyx/pseuds/lyraonyx
Summary: Severus fakes his death and escapes Britain to start over in America, free of dark lords, light lords, and archaic anti-gay laws. He makes a life for himself as a 'Muggle' professor and medical researcher, and for a time, is completely at peace. Until Harry Potter's life begins to fall apart. The Weasleys abandon him when they learn Severus isn't the only gay wizard in the world, and when Harry goes missing after being beaten almost to death, Severus knows he has no choice but to leave his cushy life behind--for the moment--and rescue the savior. He takes Harry home, heals him, and sets him up in a new life, but meanwhile, a new evil is rising in Britain. Will Severus and Harry return to fight the new Dark Lord and set Britain right again, or has the wizarding world screwed them over one too many times?Updates on this will most likely be pretty slow what with all I have going on right now. I already have a few chapters written, but after that it will be updated as I have time and strength (chronically ill mom of a toddler here).





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently managing several fics but have a few chapters done for this one. I figured I'd get it started since The Final Horcrux is almost done.
> 
> The only AU aspects to this center around Harry and Severus' sexuality, Severus' survival, and the homophobic attitudes of the British wizarding world. Since this is post-war except for the first chapter and a half, Harry is his proper age for once. (No need to age him up if the fic starts after he's already 18.) Oh, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are set as the same age as Severus in this fic. I'm not sure about Narcissa but Lucius is definitely a few years older in canon.
> 
> The next point is that Severus fakes his death in the shack so that Harry will complete his task, but he can't let Harry leave without apologising. It affects Harry deeply, too deeply to be forgotten. 
> 
> The other aspect is that the wizarding world hates gays with a vengeance, stating that homosexuals stunt bloodlines by preventing the birth of new wizarding children. The stigma against them is intense, and as such, homosexuals in Wizarding Britain can expect a horrible life, unless they either pretend to be something they're not, marry the opposite sex and have discreet dalliances on the side, or leave Britain altogether. As both Harry and Severus are gay, this leads to trouble for our boys.

# RESCUE ME

##  **Chapter 1**

* * *

_Prologue_

For the first time in almost forty years, Severus Tobias Snape had a choice about how to live the remainder of his life, and he chose to die. Well, mostly. To everyone except a certain meddling portrait in the Headmistress’ office, he had bled out in the Shrieking Shack, with a terrified Harry Potter easing the pain of his last moments.

Idiots, the lot of them. They should have realised a _potions master_ would know how to counter a great bloody snake. He’d been taking antivenin for weeks prior to the battle. And once the Potter boy had gone, it was a small matter to swipe some dittany on the wound and take a blood replenisher.

Perhaps not a _small_ matter. The boy had left it perilously late, and Severus had needed a few days’ rest in the Leaky Cauldron—under an assumed identity, of course—to recover.

It figured that the boy would be entranced by Severus only in death.

Still, Severus could not deny that the look in Potter’s eyes, as the spy had slumped onto the dusty floor, much nearer to death than he would have liked, had haunted him. Even while still believing Severus to be the worst kind of murderer, Harry’s hands on his throat had been gentle. Shock, terror, and—most surprising of all—a numb sort of grief had showed plainly in his eyes. A plea for this to be a nightmare. A plea for Severus to hold on.

Severus had almost answered it, but no. He had served his time. Done his part. And he was bloody well _finished_. Finished with the war, with having to maintain a severity of disposition he hadn’t wanted since Lily’s death, with ghosts and intrigues and lies and wizarding Britain altogether. It wasn’t as if Albus Dumbledore’s ‘murderer’ would have received a fair trial anyway. No, it had been, and still was, best that Severus die to the world that had shunned him so thoroughly.

And so, he had started a new life in a place as far as it was possible to be from wizarding Britain without actually leaving the planet: San Francisco, California. _Muggle_ San Francisco. His experience as a professor—whether of Muggle subjects or not—had come in handy in securing him a position as a biology professor at the local University of California campus, and with no shackles of an established identity dragging him down, Severus was free to be himself. He hadn’t shed his no-nonsense, intimidating persona completely, but he had allowed a softer side to grow too, and his students adored him. Well, they knew him as Professor Sevano ‘Sev’ Meredith, but Severus enjoyed going by his former nickname, now that the sting of hearing it from a voice other than Lily’s had long since faded.

So far, he had loved every moment of his new life and had no desire to ever set foot in Wizarding Britain again.

Every moment save those he spent perusing the Daily Prophet, sent via Albus’ directive to a false name and charmed to appear as biological journals to any Muggle who happened to be in the vicinity. Severus got his British news a day late, sometimes two, but he didn’t particularly care about that as he had one goal in mind: keeping his promise to Lily and making sure Harry was well, even if he had to do so from a distance.

The only problem was, after a blessed semester of peace, it became clear that Harry was _not_ well, and every day seemed to bring some fresh horror to his doorstep.

As time passed and Harry looked more and more like a ghost and less like the healthy, headstrong boy Severus remembered, the professor became slowly resigned to the fact that his days as a free man were numbered. Unless some miracle occurred and the people of Britain finally realised that Harry was a human being as much as a hero, soon enough, Severus would have to swoop in and save him. Again.

Merlin, sometimes he really hated having a conscience.


	2. Dying to Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Severus has made a new name for himself, and Merlin, it feels good._

##  **Chapter 2**

* * *

_Dying to Live_

### May 2, 1998

“I regret it.”

Severus raised his wand, searching for an attack to block, but the half-snake bastard just turned his back and started moving away. Confused, Severus moved to follow, praying that somehow, some way, he could reach Harry in time. He _had_ to. The entire fate of the war depended on his last message.

And Merlin, hadn’t Dumbledore been a fool to leave that last message with the one man Potter hated as much as Riddle himself. Even if Severus found him, would Potter listen?

Somehow he doubted it.

Well, at least Riddle had decided against killing him. For now. At least Severus had one more moment to—

A hiss and a slithering sound was all the warning Severus had before the accursed snake struck. Magical cage hovering in the darkness like a parody at the light of the end of the tunnel, Severus struggled against the beast, against the paralysis his antivenin had not quite conquered, against the dizziness as blood poured out of his throat.

Fuck, it _hurt_. And he couldn’t heal himself until the snake and Riddle had entirely gone. The snake slithered away, a flash of light filled the shrieking shack, and the door creaked open and shut. Gone at last, and with Riddle believing him dead, perhaps Severus could focus on finding Potter without interference at last—assuming he managed to apply the dittany on time. His head was already swimming, and the blood hadn’t slowed.

Shite. He had no time to waste.

Just as his fingers closed around the small jar in his pocket, a rustle of fabric moved on his left, alerting Severus to the presence of others. Shite-shite- _shite_! He couldn’t wait. He would have to heal himself even if it _was_ another Death Eater.

Then that accursed cloak of invisibility dropped, revealing a shell-shocked Potter not half a foot from Severus.

“Snape,” Harry said, and it hadn’t half the venom Severus had expected.

Severus froze, terrified. He couldn’t reveal his plan to survive—not to Harry—but if the boy tried to help him as was his wont, Severus might well die before he could heal himself. Even now, he was running out of time.

Nothing for it. He would have to pretend to die so Potter would leave him and complete his mission.

But first, Severus had a message to deliver. If he could only gather the strength.

Shaking fingers pressed against the wound in Severus’ throat, slowing the blood flow, buying him time. Harry stared at him, trembling from head to toe, tears hovering at the edge of his lashes and his eyes full of confusion, horror, and—to Severus’ surprise—bitter grief. The boy edged closer, his eyes begging for answers, and Severus wanted so badly to give them.

“T-take … it.”

He let his memories bleed, providing a gruesome alibi for his coming ‘death’. With a gasp, the Granger girl whipped out an empty phial from somewhere and caught the silvery mist. Clever girl, he wanted to say, but he hadn’t the strength.

With a cork in the bottle, sealing the silvery shimmering mist inside, a sense of peace filled Severus. At last, he had done it. He had finally given Potter the tools he needed to end the war.

He had given Potter the bald-faced, cold truth: the boy would have to walk willingly to his own death. He was a horcrux, and as long as Potter lived, so would the Dark Lord.

Grief took him by surprise. Severus blinked tears down his face, wishing he could turn back time, change the course of history, anything to save the boy he had sworn to protect. But there was nothing. He could do nothing but leave England and pray that Harry had the strength to finish his last mission. Severus hadn’t the strength to watch him die.

Harry sniffled and pressed harder against Severus’ throat, willing him not to die, and something in the older man snapped. Against his better judgment, Severus decided that he could not leave the boy without some kind of absolution, some kind of knowledge that Harry was more to Severus than a convenient outlet for all his loathing and frustration.

Harry deserved more than that. An apology was pathetic in lieu of everything the boy had endured at his hand, would endure, but it was all Severus had to offer.

Harry had closed his eyes, shaking with suppressed sobs or fury—Severus wasn’t sure which, and Severus called out to him with as much strength as he could muster.

“Look … at … me.”

Gods, it was hard to talk like this. His vision was greying, too. Whatever message he had to give the boy, he had best do it fast.

Harry lifted his eyes and held Severus’ gaze. Tears streaked ash and dirt across the boy’s cheeks, and on impulse, Severus lifted a trembling hand towards his cheek.

“So … sorry … Harry.”

Harry started, eyes wide, breath catching as Severus rubbed the boy’s tears away.

“Forgive … me.”

He wanted to say more, but Harry’s hand wasn’t enough to seal Severus’ wound, and his time was running out. It was time for Severus Snape to ‘die,’ or he might perish in earnest.

Grief and guilt warring with his heart, he let his hand drop and fell back, leaving his eyes open and rolled up lest Harry believe he was simply unconscious. They prickled with the need to blink, but Severus controlled the impulse. Dry eyes were better than dead ones.

Above him, the boy’s breath caught on a sob. “I’m s-sorry too, sir.”

Gentle fingertips pushed Severus’ eyelids closed, soothing the ache, and a calloused hand brushed the hair from his face.

Granger’s voice rattled Severus’ pounding head. “Harry, I’m sorry—there’s nothing we can do for him now. And if we don’t go soon ….”

Harry sighed. “Right.”

A warm hand closed on Severus’ own, and the older man longed to hold it tight, to give the boy comfort. He resisted the urge.

Harry murmured against Severus’ ear, “I’ll end this, sir. I swear.”

It was as much of an absolution as Severus was ever likely to get.

With a swish of satiny fabric and a few muffled footsteps and sniffles, Harry and his friends were gone. Severus waited until the door closed once more, then hurriedly swiped the dittany on his throat and downed a blood replenisher as soon as the wound sealed.

Dear gods, that had been too close.

He struggled to sit and held his spinning head, taking stock of his state of health. Still too bad. Too weak. He’d never make it as far as the States in this condition. As much as he ached to be out of Britain and beyond the war, he would have to rest and recover somewhere first. Under an assumed identity, of course.

With a sigh, Severus glamoured himself into someone plain and unrecognisable, cleaned most of the blood from his robes, and hobbled away.

  


### May 3, 1998

Severus spent the first night of his convalescence at the Leaky Cauldron warring with fever, pain, and the grim assurance that the success of his last mission had broken his vow to Lily. Over his best friend’s dead body, he had once rocked her baby son close to his heart, and blinded by grief and tears, sworn to protect him as he had never been able to protect Lily. Sworn to keep him safe.

But with Severus’ final message, he had instead personally condemned Potter to a gristly death at the Dark Lord’s hands. He had protected Harry all his life only to send him off to die.

A lamb raised for slaughter indeed.

Severus was no better than Albus, with his cold-blooded manipulations and heartless strategy, all for the purpose of letting a seventeen year old boy offer himself up as a sacrifice for the greater good.

He had succeeded in securing the path to victory, but in doing so, Severus had failed Harry. And fuck, that knowledge hurt worse than Nagini’s fangs.

As he settled into his room for the night, Severus wondered if Harry was gone yet. Then, just as he was transfiguring his bloodied robes into a plain nightshirt, he felt it. A shift in aura, a golden thread of warmth lodging in his heart and spreading all over his skin. A shield, protection from the Dark Lord and his minions.

And it left Severus broken and empty inside. Harry had completed his final mission. The Dark Lord was no longer immortal and could no longer hurt Severus or anyone else allied with the light, but Severus couldn’t be arsed to care. The cost was too high. Too dear.

“Oh gods. _Harry_.”

Severus sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands. He had never before allowed himself the indulgence of tears, but now they fell thick and fast, leaving him blind and sobbing with grief he hadn’t felt since that devastating Halloween in Godric’s Hollow, though the night on the tower had come close.

The last legacy of Lily Evans, Severus’ only friend, was gone. _Harry_ was gone.

“I am sorry, Harry. Gods, so sorry. I tried so hard, but it is never enough, is it?”

Throughout the wee-hours, Severus mourned the boy. Mourned his mother, Dumbledore, Regulus—all those he had loved and lost over the years and had never been allowed to weep for. But mostly, he just remembered that last haunted look in Harry’s eyes and _keened_.

By dawn, guilt had become a choking noose around his neck. Did Severus deserve to live when Harry—an innocent boy who had never fallen prey to the dark—had just died for him? For all of them? Did they even _know_ what Harry had done to save them all?

Severus knew, and so he agonised over his own life, half-tempted to let the still-healing bite wound finish him. He wasn’t in the clear yet. If he simply stopped taking the antivenin and potions … he would soon join Harry.

The prospect was not without merit. Given all of his failures, perhaps Severus deserved to die. No one would mourn him. No one would shed a tear.

Except perhaps the lovely green-eyed boy now lying dead on the battlefield somewhere.

Gods help him, that thought ripped the heart right out of his chest.

A knock on the door startled Severus out of his mourning. He jerked up, wand in hand and moaning at a wave of pain and dizziness. Even so, he gathered enough strength and presence of mind to quickly reapply his glamour and jerk his wand into position.

“Enter.”

Tom poked his head in the room and held up two empty hands. “Easy there. I’m just up to make sure you’re healing all right, lad.”

Severus sniffled and let his wand drop. “I will survive.”

Tom watched him, his eyes full of sympathy and understanding. “But you wish you hadn’t?”

Severus closed his eyes and gave him a terse nod.

A warm hand closed on his shoulder, but Severus shrugged off the comfort. He didn’t deserve it. He had essentially murdered the one boy he had truly wanted to save.

“I understand your grief, lad, but we’ve all a good reason to live now. The war’s over, didn’t you know? Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who, and for good this time! You-Know-Who left his body behind this time, you see, and so the aurors—”

But Severus had heard nothing beyond “ _defeated You-Know-Who_.” A ragged breath congealed in his throat and his heart stilled. How was it _possible_? How could Harry have been the one to defeat him if the boy had been a horcrux? He would have had to die before Riddle, and thus wouldn’t have been alive to defeat the Dark Lord.

It had to be a trick, or perhaps more of Skeeter’s lies. Or perhaps just the willing delusion of the public who insisted upon burdening a gawky, lonely teenager with the task of murdering a dark wizard the best of Britain hadn’t been able to conquer in fifty years.

Still, a tentative thread of hope latched onto Severus’ bleeding heart and wouldn’t let go. “But … but Harry … he died, didn’t he?”

Tom gave him a sad smile. “Was that why you were so miserable?” He sat on the bed beside Severus, and numb as he was, the spy did not object. “Well, I’m not really sure of the whole story—you know how the Prophet just prints what they want to never mind the facts—but according to the fighters, Harry didn’t really die. Or maybe he did—like I said, it’s all rather confusing and Harry himself hasn’t been able to verify anything yet.

“Anyway, everyone at Hogwarts was in despair because Hagrid had brought in Harry’s body. They all thought he was dead. Then he supposedly just … stood up and challenged the Death Eaters.”

Severus’ eyes widened. “But that is impossible! There is no way to come back from death.”

“Well, not for you or me, perhaps, but Harry’s survived it before, hasn’t he?”

Severus went rigid. Was it true? Had Harry’s protection spared his life a second time? Perhaps the killing curse had only killed the horcrux within the boy and left Harry’s soul intact?

Severus’ voice was smaller than it had ever been when he finally spoke again. “You … you are positive he is alive?”

Tom smiled. “Well, like I said, the Prophet is a bit dodgy at times. But there _was_ a photo in the paper, and that’s a bit harder to distrust.”

Severus reeled, hope and dread choking him. “A photo?”

“Yep, of Harry fighting You-Know-Who. And it showed Harry’s wand striking him down. Well, more like You-Know-Who trying to kill Harry and being topped by his own curse— _again_. You’d think he’d learn, but maybe it’s lucky for us he didn’t.”

“Y-yes.”

Severus gripped his knees, dizzy and weak with the need to know. He had to see the truth with his own eyes. Had he failed or not?

“C-could I—the photo—might I see it?”

Tom nodded and Summoned the paper. A moment later, Severus held the Prophet in shaking hands and watched as photo-Harry, bloody, dirty, and alive—oh Merlin, _alive!_ —defied the Dark Lord, Draco Malfoy’s wand in hand and tears streaking his cheeks. Photo-Riddle struck, sickly-green light racing towards Harry at the same time red streaks shot from Harry’s wand. Severus’ stomach jolted with horror, but before the curse struck, both red and green lights reflected back at Riddle and hit the snake-faced bastard square in the chest. Severus watched, unable to blink, as Riddle’s red eyes dimmed and rolled into the back of his head. The Dark Lord collapsed to the ground and did not breathe again, while the crowd surrounding Harry burst into silent cheers.

Tears slipped unchecked down Severus’ cheeks. Harry had done it! He had truly defeated the Dark Lord once and for all!

Severus hadn’t failed him.

With a suppressed sob, Severus watched the photo again and again, needing to see the evidence, to see for himself that Harry was alive! And … Merlin, had the Dark Lord’s wand sailed back into Harry’s hand after the curse hit?

“He … he defeated th—You-Know-Who … with a bloody _disarming charm_? Are you bloody kidding me?”

It was absurd. Severus wanted to laugh, but laughter had never come easy to him, so he settled for watching photo-Harry sink to his knees in relief, triumph and anguish written plain upon his face.

‘Well done, Harry. Well done.’

When Severus came out of his thoughts, Tom was laughing. “Looks that way, eh? He’s an odd lad, that one, but a good one. Couldn’t even kill to finish off You-Know-Who. Still, it makes for an impressive photo, hmm?”

“That it does.” Through wry amusement and a vale of tears, Severus handed the man back his paper and wiped his face. “Dear Merlin, I’m not sure what is the matter with me.”

Tom patted his shoulder, and in the odd sort of mood he found himself, Severus allowed it. “We all put our hopes on that boy, didn’t we? Without him, well, the future looked bleak.”

Severus nodded. Had Harry truly died, Severus wasn’t sure he would have been able to go on.

“But he’s done it,” Tom said with a smile. “He won us the war _and_ he’s alive, lad. We’ll recover—and so will Harry.”

Severus let his lips turn up in the first smile he had revealed in twenty-five years. Perhaps his glamour made it easier to let his walls down. Or perhaps this was the first time he’d really had a reason to smile since Lily.

“Yes. So he will.”

Tom stood and patted Severus’ shoulder. “Since you’re up and about, I’ll bring you up a spot of breakfast.”

Severus laid a hand on the man’s wrist. “Thank you.”

It was for more than the breakfast, and they both knew it.

Tom grinned and left Severus buzzing with a well-spring of renewed hope. The war was over and he and Harry had both survived. And without the twin shadows of Albus and the Dark Lord to rule his life, Severus was finally free to _live_.

It was about bloody time.

  


### December 31, 1998

It was New Year’s Eve in San Francisco, and Severus spent the evening curled up with a glass of scotch, sitting in front of his fire and reflecting on his first year in the states. It had been a good one, and he looked forward to spending many more years here.

After that first harrowing night in the Leaky Cauldron, Severus had set his energies towards recovering and started preparations to leave Britain for good.

He had watched Harry from afar, relieved and secretly proud as the boy emerged from the post-war celebrations looking frazzled, but mostly all right, save for the haunted look in his eyes. Severus understood—he had the same look about him. They had all seen too much, lost too much. The shadows of the past would never fully leave, but now that the Dark Lord was well and truly _gone_ , they were free to enjoy a brighter future.

Severus sipped his drink and smiled. It had been good to watch Harry finally begin to live for himself, if only through glimpses. It was enough. As long as he was happy, so was Severus.

Happy along with Harry Potter. Merlin, how much Severus’ life had changed. He took another sip and watched the fire, thinking back on his first term as a Muggle professor.

The past few months had been the most fulfilling and peaceful time in his life. Severus truly enjoyed teaching students who _wanted_ to learn, and most of the students in his classes were in there because they wanted to be, not because it was required. Biology wasn’t easy, after all, and the subject held endless fascination and worth for the pre-medical students at his university. For Severus, too.

Again and again, Severus thanked his unquenchable thirst for knowledge. His former mastery teacher, Master Inglewhite, had insisted that one could not truly understand how potions worked on the body without understanding how the body worked. And, according to Inglewhite, the Muggles had as much of an understanding of the scientific aspects of physiology as wizards had magical.

Being a young Death Eater with a hatred of all things Muggle, Severus might have turned his nose up at the classes … had they not been so utterly _fascinating_. Despite his disdain for the professor and his classmates, Severus hadn’t been able to resist the siren call of new knowledge, especially as most of his wizarding contemporaries would not have been exposed to the Muggle side of science. It gave him an edge, and Severus was Slytherin enough to take advantage of it. Once he got over his pride, Severus had thrived in the classes—almost to the point of earning his PhD. He might have done so, had he not earned his Mastery first.

Those classes sure came in handy these days, though Severus had, at first, been a bit behind the times. Nothing a bit of study couldn’t rectify. It was truly incredible how far Muggles had advanced since the 80’s, especially considering they hadn’t the aid of magic.

Not long into his course preparations, Severus had discovered a glaring lack in both Muggle and wizarding medicine. The issue with Muggle medicine—well, at least the only one Severus had a hope of fixing without breaking the secrecy act—was their pharmaceuticals. Most were ineffective or had vile side effects. And the weakness of wizarding medicine was its strict reliance on magic. Magical treatments only meant some injuries did not heal properly—injuries from dark curses in particular, which did not respond well to magical healing. Potions, too, sometimes left a victim with injuries and ailments that Muggle techniques could heal more easily than wizarding.

Severus had decided early on that he wanted to bridge the gap. To use potions with Muggle ingredients as ‘herbal’ medicines and to bring advanced Muggle medical techniques to the wizarding world.

It wouldn’t be easy, but Merlin knew Severus had never been able to pass up a challenge.

Using his professional alias, Severus had already passed some of his lesson plans and class information on to the American wizarding community. Most mediwizards and healers had accepted the studies with alacrity, only excepting the stodgiest of purebloods. Severus had taken the time to investigate Muggle practices of healing as well, putting that ‘almost PhD’ to good use, and before long, those techniques he suggested had made it into common practice around Californian wizarding hospitals. Especially for dark curses, the Muggle way of healing was a blessing. People who would have died survived and went on to live fulfilling lives.

By October, even the purebloods had started paying attention.

For the Muggle world, he used weekends and school breaks to develop healing potions, using all Muggle ingredients so as to make the cure accessible to doctors. By the end of his first term, he had already developed and tested three treatments for previously incurable curses and ailments—a mix of Muggle and wizarding cures—and through this, Professor Sevano ‘Sev’ Meredith had earned the respect of both communities, at least in America.

And by Merlin, it made Severus proud. A healthy sort of pride, for once. _This_ was what he was meant to be. _This_ was where he belonged. He was making a real difference in the world, and by gods, it felt good.

Harry seemed to be doing well for himself, too. As Severus had begun his first term as a Muggle professor, Harry had taken and passed his NEWTs and gone into a career, not in the aurors or the quidditch leagues, as Severus had expected, but as a shopkeeper in Diagon Alley. It seemed the boy had come into a large collection of rare books—Black’s most likely—and rather than selling them all at once or pawning them off on Granger, he had decided to use them as start-up stock for a wizarding bookstore. The Daily Prophet reported the shop to be a ‘raving success,’ though Severus could read between the lines and wondered how much Harry’s fame had to do with that. He would bet his favourite cauldron that Harry wondered about it too.

Up to now, the press on the boy who lived had all been good. Harry’s business was booming, his relationship with the Weasley girl seemed to be going well, and the public adored him for his sacrifices. Though whenever asked directly about his role in the war, Harry denied his own heroism deflected the honour onto others—mostly, onto Severus himself, to the man’s continual surprise.

Perhaps that last-minute apology had affected Harry more than Severus thought.

Harry had even single-handedly wrangled a ‘posthumous’ pardon and Order of Merlin for his ‘formerly most hated professor’, first class, and had it hung on a plaque outside the potions classrooms at Hogwarts. The Prophet had run a special on the ceremony and placement, and Severus had framed the paper in his office, though to the Muggles it looked like nothing more than another PhD diploma. Whenever Severus had a bad day, he would come in and look at it, and remember that someone knew him for who he truly was and appreciated him, good and bad.

That it would be _Potter_ who knew and liked him best confounded Severus on a daily basis, but also filled him with a sense of pride and peace. Harry _understood_. Severus’ apology and memories had revealed what he had never been able to tell Harry without risking everything: he had never hated the boy. That the young man could, in turn, hold Severus in such high regard, even after everything Severus had done to hurt him, honoured and humbled the former spy by turns.

Harry truly was a special young man, and Severus wished him joy.

The clock chimed midnight and Severus welcomed the new year with a smile and a salute of his scotch. It truly was a wonderful feeling to be happy.


	3. Tearing at the Seams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings: socialized homophobia. References to past slash sex (Lucius/Severus). Summary: Harry's perfect life begins to fall apart and Severus is forced to relive some of his worst memories._

##  **Chapter 3**

* * *

_Tearing at the Seams_

### February 16, 1999

In retrospect, Severus should have realised that such perfect happiness was too good to last.

It had started after Valentine’s Day. Well, _on_ Valentine’s Day for Harry, but Severus’ papers came on a delay of a day or two. It took time to charm his newspapers and floo/owl them overseas, after all, though the Gringotts goblins—and their American colleagues—were unfailingly efficient in that capacity. Efficient and discreet, to Severus’ relief.

Two days after a blissfully cherub-free Valentine’s Day, Severus woke up as usual to a cup of steaming coffee and a blueberry bagel with cream cheese. The chemistry professor had introduced him to the American snack, and Severus enjoyed the contrast between chewy bread, sweet fruits, and the melty, smooth spread. It tasted wonderful with his favourite French roast. He was looking forward to it, and to reading the Daily Prophet.

The paper was already waiting when he sat down at the kitchen table, and Severus grinned as he settled in with his breakfast. It was promising to be a good day.

And then, he read the headline.

####  Grey Valentine’s Day: Harry Potter Seen in Flaming Row with Lover

Severus frowned at the accompanying picture. It certainly seemed like an unpleasant situation. Harry stood stock-still, staring at his feet, his face flushed brilliant red, while Ginevra Weasley screamed at him, her face as red as her hair and her freckles showing in fierce relief. She shouted and gesticulated madly, but Severus could not make out anything beyond the fact that she was publicly dressing Harry down for something, and that he looked utterly miserable and betrayed.

With a sinking feeling in his chest, Severus laid his bagel aside and tried to assemble some measure of truth from the wild speculation always rampant in Skeeter’s stories. As far as he could tell, Ginevra had gone on a rampage because Harry hadn’t proposed to her during their Valentine’s Day date. She claimed he had been barely lukewarm since the war and had publicly accused him of not loving her enough. When Harry would only respond in a low monotone, no doubt to avoid giving the reporters more fodder, she shrieked at him about ‘commitment issues’ and stormed off.

“It sounds rather like she is the one who needs to be committed,” Severus grumbled to himself.

He looked back to the photo, where Harry had been left alone by the restaurant, rain dripping into his messy hair and fogging his glasses, so Severus couldn’t see the hurt within.

“Merlin, how clichéd. It’s like a scene out of a trite Muggle romance.”

It _was_ terribly predictable, but also heart-breaking. As Severus watched Harry sigh and wrap his arms around himself, heading to the Apparition point alone, he ached to hug the miserable man and tell him it would be all right.

 _Hug_ him? Since when did Severus Snape _hug_?

Severus shoved the paper away. He’d had enough maudlin reflection for one day.

  


### March 5, 1999

The next headline almost ate the page, it was so large. Flashing pink hearts surrounded the glaring red letters, interspersed with blinding green lightning bolts. Severus was instantly ill.

“Bloody moronic typesetters,” he snapped even as he tried to make out the actual words between tacky decorations.

####  Celebration of the Century: Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley to Wed!

Severus snorted. “Well, seems like they worked out that kink rather quickly.”

His amusement faded at the sight of the accompanying photo. Ginevra certainly looked happy, beaming from ear to ear as she showed her new ring off to her brothers and Granger, but Harry was another story. Oh, he was smiling, but Severus was not so easily fooled. He had read Harry’s mind, seen his secrets. They had focused on one another for years, and Severus prided himself in knowing every flicker of emotion that clouded those beautiful green eyes.

And Harry _wasn’t_ at all happy about this arrangement. At least, not in his core. The boy put on a wide grin and laughed with his friends, but doubt and uncertainty still plagued him. Every time he looked away, crushing guilt and fear flickered in his eyes, along with a healthy dose of shame and self-loathing.

No, all was not well with Potter, as much as his friends would like to believe otherwise. If they noticed at all, they likely thought it was a simple case of pre-wedding jitters, but Severus knew better. He had seen that look on his own face before, was too familiar with that particular cocktail of emotions not to know what it meant.

“Oh, Harry. How I hope I am reading you incorrectly, for your sake.”

Britain had never been kind to men like Severus, and he feared even the Chosen One’s sterling reputation would not be enough to overcome prejudice _this_ deep.

Unsettled and worried to his bones, Severus laid the paper aside and Occluded his fears away.

  


### April 10, 1999

After yesterday’s sensational headline claiming the Golden Boy had been caught with his pants down—literally—this morning’s paper didn’t surprise him in the least. Thrilled him, cheered him down to his core, but didn’t surprise him.

####  End of Duplicitous Journalism: Rita Skeeter Sacked!

“Good show, Harry. Good show.”

Severus read the article with a proud smirk on his face, thoroughly enjoying the tale of how Harry had used the memory of his interview in fourth year to prove Skeeter a liar, rallied the aurors against her, and forced her secrets out with liberal use of Veritaserum. According to Miss Padma Patil, Skeeter’s much less vile replacement, the aurors had needed six further doses of truth serum after the first just to get to the bottom of her lies about Harry. The aurors had been forced to delay questioning concerning her other stories in order to avoid a messy death by Veritaserum poisoning.

In fear of their reputation, the Prophet had been quick to dismiss the woman and quicker still to replace her with one of Potter’s year-mates, though Patil wouldn’t have been Severus’ first choice. Still, he had to admit, despite the occasional foray into gossip, Patil’s honest, breezy style was a huge improvement over Skeeter’s sensationalist bullshite. Now that the little insect was gone, Severus looked forward to being able to enjoy the morning paper again without the need to dissect the feature stories for kernels of truth hidden in page upon page of lies.

The only bee in his bonnet—or beetle, so to speak—was whether Skeeter’s article had sown the seeds of suspicion in the future Mrs. Potter’s mind. If what Severus had gathered from the last article was correct, Harry would have a hard enough time keeping her from losing faith in his love without _that_ rumour flying about.

Severus shook his head and returned to the paper. It was a Saturday, and he had every intention of enjoying a lazy morning without the need to rush off to class. After all, he had no real reason to fear for Potter.

Yet.

  


### April 27, 1999

Severus scowled over the Daily Prophet, tempted to burn it to ash. _This_ was why he had left Britain in the first place. _This_ was why he hadn’t dared stay in the country—it had little to do with the mark on his arm, which he believed Harry might have been able to save him from. No, his reasons had been much more … _personal_.

####  Heir to Fletch-Finchley Fortune Outed as Line-Ender, Disowned

_‘Line-ender.’_ Severus sneered at the term. Wizarding Britain’s _lovely_ word for someone who preferred the company of the same sex, be they male or female. Merlin, it had been years since he had last heard it.

Homosexuals among Britain’s wizarding population learned quickly not to reveal themselves. The pureblood fanatics would look away from one’s ‘perversions’ so long as one took an opposite sex spouse, produced an heir, and kept any homosexual dalliances strictly under wraps. But if a homosexual refused a traditional marriage or, like Severus, could not find it within themselves to desire the opposite sex at all, then all hell broke loose for the individual unfortunate enough to be caught.

And Severus _had_ been caught.

He had once made the mistake of trusting Lucius Malfoy with his secret during his sixth year. After Slytherin won the house cup—mostly thanks to the Marauders’ point-eating pranks—the party had been legendary. Severus was thoroughly drunk when he had come onto Malfoy, begging a chance with that haughty, but rather beautiful arse. Malfoy, also drunk, had agreed and the sex had been excellent. Rough, animalistic, and primal, just like Severus had wanted at the time. The man had even stayed the night with him and kissed him goodbye, though he made it clear he would not be participating in such rituals a second time. With a shrug, Severus had given the man a potion for his hangover and sent him on his way, ready to embrace his pillow for a few more hours.

He had woken to absolute chaos. Malfoy hadn’t been discreet, and when Severus left his room, he had discovered that hatred of Slytherins wasn’t a trait reserved solely for Gryffindors after all. All around him, people had bandied derogatory names about, both behind his back and to his face. _Fag, queer, pouf._ The worst, uttered in tones of sheer hatred, was _‘Line-ender.’_ Apparently they believed Severus would destroy the purity of their blood, corrupt their heritage, and steal their heirs simply because he preferred men to women. And because he had _borrowed_ the male fiancé of a female pureblood, he had the treat of being called a _‘Line-thief’_ too, the lowest of the low. A homewrecker on top of a pouf, never mind that Lucius hadn’t been interested in continuing the liaison nor was he an unwilling accomplice.

Ducking away from the common room, Severus had wondered if Malfoy was suffering this same treatment and if he would need help. Instead, he found Malfoy leaning on Narcissa’s shoulder, spinning a tale of woe about how Severus had seduced him and taken advantage of him while he was drunk.

  


_“I didn’t_ really _want him,” Lucius was saying to an enthralled crowd. “I’m afraid too much talisker makes me a bit … stupid. He seduced me, led me on. Gods, I feel like such a fool.”_

 _Bitter, incandescent rage burned a hole through Severus’ belly._ Seduced _him, had he? Lucius had certainly looked willing the night before. Infuriated, the betrayed young man ducked behind a curtain and shot an invisible hex of his own invention at the lying arsehole._

“Iacet Veritatem,” _Severus whispered._

_The hex hit Lucius in the back and changed one of his lies mid-sentence._

_“I asked him to stop, you know, but then—oh! He captivated me. Gods, he was good at it too. Absolute demon in bed.”_

_The others tittered. Mulciber prodded, “Just a minute, Lucy. Was he good or did he seduce you? Because you’re saying two different things here.”_

_Severus smirked. Let Lucius try to worm his way out of_ that.

_“Oh, I wanted it.” Severus grinned at the look of absolute horror on Lucius’ face. “I mean, such a fine piece of arse—how could I resist? No, I meant to say that he made me howl with the best orgasm I’ve ever had. So good, so big I could feel him in my ears. Oh gods.”_

_Damn. That made even Severus blush._

_“My, my, Lucius,” said a cold Narcissa. “Seems as though you prefer men to women if this is the case.”_

_“No, of course I do.” Lucius gasped and clapped his hands over his mouth, but it didn’t quite muffle the next words. “Women are so …_ boring _. Men have much more spice about them.”_

_Narcissa’s eyes flashed. “Well, let this boring woman show you some spice. Whether you like it or not, you are bound in a marriage contract to me, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. And you can be sure that the next time you chase a piece of arse other than my own—whether male or female—you will wake up to divorce papers, the most inventive curses I can manage, and the scandal of the century, one I’m sure the Prophet will pay well for. Are we clear?”_

_“C-crystal,” said a miserable Lucius._

_While Narcissa’s demands appeased Severus on some level, the lack of general loathing and vitriol for Lucius left the younger man cold. After all, Lucius had just outed himself as not only a willing participant, but halfway to gay. And no one seemed to care. They just kept asking for more tales about his … eventful night and immolating Severus in scorn._

_Severus ran from the common room in tears._

  


Even twenty years later, the memory of that morning still cut like a knife. Lucius had gone on as normal while Severus drowned under a tide of hatred, when they had both been willing participants in the same act. It wasn’t fair. Well, life had never been _fair_ to Severus, but this was a level of cruelty even he hadn’t been accustomed to.

Severus discovered the reason for his classmate’s divergent reactions later that day in Slughorn’s office, when the man had greeted Severus’ heartbroken pleas for help with a deaf ear and a stack of potential marriage candidates—all women, of course, and all lesbians. No ‘proper’ woman would want to be saddled with a line-ender husband, after all. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, or so Slughorn had said.

Not even Black and Potter had ever humiliated Severus so completely.

In the end, it all came down to heritage. The old wizarding families were all about inheritance and heirs and keeping the lines pure. The half-bloods didn’t care as much about purity, but they _did_ care about carrying on the wizarding way. And the Muggleborns often carried the same homophobic tendencies of their parents. There was no quarter in the wizarding world for an openly gay wizard—except with other gays. Or, like Lucius, if he chose to marry a member of the opposite sex despite his preference.

Since the presiding prejudice was more about carrying on the bloodlines and not against gays intrinsically, Lucius had avoided public scorn because of his female fiancée. As long as he intended to produce heirs, no one gave a damn whether he toyed with the same sex on the side or not, barring Narcissa. Purebloods preferred any homosexual tendencies to be kept strictly out of the limelight, but among adolescents, the sin of indiscretion could be overlooked if the story was titillating enough.

But the unattached and uncompromisingly homosexual Severus had no such insulation against their bigotry. As he had thus far refused all offers of marriage and made it clear he would reject any future witches who dared consider his suit, he was regarded as an abomination and a threat to the longevity of the wizarding world.

Slughorn had given Severus a choice before he left the office: he could leave with a hundred and fifty fewer points for Slytherin, to be tallied against the following year, and a month’s worth of detention with the gamekeeper spent mucking out stalls, or he could choose between a few eligible pureblood, lesbian females Slughorn knew were looking for a partner.

Naturally, Severus had sneered and told the pompous old fucker to shove his contracts. As a result, the next year had been sheer hell, with both his professors and classmates turning against him. Only the headmaster had deigned to protect him, and even then, Dumbledore’s protection was spotty and unreliable. After all, Sirius Black had nearly killed Severus in seventh year, and had barely received a detention for it. A detention for attempted _murder_! Well, Albus had tried to expel Black, but the governors had overturned his decision, leaving Severus to endure the pain of betrayal alone.

After that day, all illusions of Severus’ continued safety in the wizarding world had fled. Terrified and drowning in despair, he had gone to Lily for help and advice, asking her for a way to escape into the Muggle world—only to be turned away. While she didn’t carry the Muggle prejudices against homosexuality, she knew just as well as anyone who he had made his bed with, and she _did_ hate Malfoy with a passion.

In his desperation, Severus had forgotten that Lily had never forgiven him for the fifth-year incident, nor for his choice of friends. Apparently even losing everyone he had cared about and coming to her in tears was not enough to earn her forgiveness. She knew he had only come because he had nowhere else to go, and would not accept his apologies. Wouldn’t even hear them.

Broken-hearted, friendless, and besieged on all sides, Severus’ only option for any sort of future had been to go into the Dark Lord’s service. Apparently Tom Riddle didn’t care about the orientation of a half-blood so long as Severus did not interfere with pureblood couples again. Riddle wanted Severus for his skills at potions, and nothing else mattered to him. It would have been different had Severus been a pureblood, but since he wasn’t, Riddle apparently appreciated Severus’ lack of desire to muddy pureblood lines with half-blood children.

Severus had started at the bottom of the Death Eater pack, an unknown entity and second-class citizen for his half-Muggle ancestry, but the scourge of his blood among the Death Eaters didn’t cut half so deep as that of his orientation among the greater population. Content to stay in the shadows and brew, Severus had risen quickly through the ranks. The Dark Lord had soon put a stop to the Death Eaters’ horrid treatment of his potions brewer, using the _Cruciatus_ curse to make a point: if he saw no issue with Severus, then his followers should not either.

After the day Riddle had killed one of the lesser Death Eaters for continually ignoring his edict to leave Severus alone, the world had become a much less unfriendly place for Severus, despite his secret horror and guilt over the man’s brutal death. Even Malfoy had tried to charm the ascetic brewer, but the Severus had not forgotten who had been the source of his pain. Ever a Slytherin, Severus had allowed Malfoy to _think_ he had wormed his way back into Severus’ confidence, but Severus was not fool enough to ever trust Lucius Malfoy again. Particularly not with his body, however the Malfoy heir might have begged for another chance.

A carefully-worded anonymous letter to Narcissa had put an amusing end to _that_ debacle. Lucius hadn’t been able to walk straight for weeks.

Despite his growing misgivings and Lucius’ annoying brown-nosing, Severus had found respite in the Death Eaters’ hideout, for a time. Riddle had given Severus a safehouse to hide in while Severus earned his mastery under one of the few half-blood potions masters who couldn’t have cared less about pureblood or Muggle prejudices. And because he was safe there, because his life and talents were valued apart from his orientation, Severus overlooked the Dark Lord’s madness. Though some part of his soul cringed away from the bloodshed, Severus said nothing. He had no other home, and because he had no illusions that, even if he did escape the Dark Lord’s wrath, the wizarding world would ever welcome him back, he stayed despite his misgivings.

Then he had discovered half of a prophecy and, like a fool, repeated it to Riddle. Severus would never forget the meeting which followed.

  


_Riddle had called every one of his supporters and followers to a celebratory dinner in honour of Severus’ graduation as a potions master—attendance was mandatory, of course, or Severus doubted anyone would have shown at all. Those who did wore disgruntled expressions, and had Riddle not ordered Severus to dose their champagne with Veritaserum, Severus would have thrilled in gloating over them all. As it was, he was too busy trying to figure out the true purpose of this gathering to care._

_One did not dose simple dinner guests with truth serum, after all._

_Once everyone was arranged around a table transfigured to seat fifty people, Riddle had spoken to them conversationally, pretending to care about each person present. He had waited until everyone was comfortable and talking well to order his house elves to bring out the dosed champagne._

_Severus discreetly tipped a few drops of the antidote in his own drink as soon as it was served. A quick glance at the head of the table showed Riddle was watching the house elves and paying Severus no heed. The young man stifled a sigh of relief and waited until everyone had been served._

_“Now,” said Riddle with a smile, “rise, Severus, and share a toast with us to your success as the youngest potions master in three centuries. To Severus, who overcame intense adversity to become one of my most trusted aides and a promising young master in his own right.” Riddle lifted his glass—Severus noted it was white wine and not champagne—and the other guests did so as well, however reluctantly._

_“To Severus,” they muttered, and drank their champagne, mostly in one go. Severus couldn’t suppress a smirk, knowing they were trying to medicate the shame of having a ‘line-ender’ proving himself as their better. Severus drank his own champagne last, savouring the flavour of triumph. Still smirking, he sat when Riddle bid the others to, then allowed a glazed expression to take over his features. It would appear to Riddle as if he had dosed himself along with everyone else, which the Dark Lord would interpret as a gesture of trust._

_Severus trusted no one, especially not madmen, murderers, and Malfoys._

_He Occluded his mind and stared at the wall, wondering what questions Riddle would ask of them._

_Riddle swirled his wine and took another sip. “Lucius Malfoy, what is your wife’s name?”_

_The aristocrat answered in a monotone. “Narcissa Black Malfoy.”_

_“What year did you graduate?”_

_“1972.”_

_Riddle’s smile was devious. “When you had sexual relations with Severus Snape during the latter’s sixth year, did you, or did you not go willingly into his bed?”_

_Severus suppressed a gasp and a blush. Such reactions would have given him away, but Merlin, it was a close thing._

_“I went willingly.”_

_Riddle chuckled. “Yes, and then lied about it to make it appear as if dear Severus had seduced you, you hypocritical fool._ Crucio _.”_

_Severus remained impassive during the man’s torture. Malfoy lay panting on the floor when the Dark Lord had finished with him, and Severus had a difficult time calling up even the dredges of sympathy. The bastard deserved worse for what he had put Severus through._

_“Now that my little test is complete,” Riddle said in a quiet voice that nonetheless carried to the corners of the room, “I have questions for all of you. First, do any of you know of a prophecy delivered by one Sybil Trelawney this past Thursday at the Hog’s Head pub?”_

_Among a resounding chorus of negatives, Severus gave his one “Yes.”_

_Riddle nodded to Severus. “Good. I would not have it repeated. How many of you know of witches who are pregnant?”_

_Many affirmatives resounded as well as a few negatives._

_“Of those, how many of you are aware of witches who are pregnant and due at the end of July?”_

_Two affirmatives sounded in a chorus of negatives, and Severus’ heart raced. Merlin. Did Riddle mean to do what Severus thought he did? Surely he wouldn’t—not a pregnant woman. Was he mad enough to stoop that low?_

_“Narcissa, do tell which witch you know of who is due at the end of July.”_

_“Alice Longbottom, master.”_

_Riddle rubbed his lips. “Hmm. Possible. Rookwood, which witch do you know of due at the end of July, or is it also Alice Longbottom?”_

_“Alice Longbottom and Lily Potter.”_

_Severus’ heart stopped. Oh gods, not_ Lily _! She had rejected Severus, true, but even so, he still loved her like the sister he never had. Maybe she didn’t care about him any longer, but Severus could never wish her ill. He found himself praying Riddle focused his ire on Longbottom, as much as he hated himself for it._

_“Potter. Yes, I am … familiar with her. Thrice defied, powerful, and a mudblood. Well, I believe the choice is clear then. Tinky, please administer the antidote.”_

_Though Severus was shaking inside, he waited until the antidote had been placed in his champagne and Riddle ordered them to drink. Severus pretended to take the antidote, gave it enough time to work, then rushed to Riddle’s side._

_“Sire, Master, I beg you—Lily is … was, all I had. If it is possible, please spare her.”_

_Riddle gave Severus a look of pure disappointment, and Severus winced._

_“Spare a mudblood, Severus? A mudblood whose child could—well, you are aware of the potential for disaster, and yet you ask me to let her live? I am most disappointed in you, little one.”_

_The_ Cruciatus _hadn’t stopped until Severus’ ears and nose were bleeding and his bones felt as though Riddle had turned them to powder. Even after taking what anti-_ Cruciatus _potion he had in his stores, it took everything Severus had left to apparate out of the Dark Lord’s hideout, stagger to the Headmaster’s office under heavy glamours and disillusionment charms, and beg his assistance._

  


In the end, Severus had sworn his life away to a cause who had no love for him, to people who had wanted him exiled. He had done it for Lily, and later, for Harry, and he had never regretted his choice. But _gods_ , it had been a terrible life.

And now Finch-Fletchley would face the same kind of censure that had driven Severus into the arms of the Dark Lord, had given him an excuse to overlook the madness if only he could stay safe for a little while longer. Severus had eventually found his courage in protecting the only female, other than his mother, he had ever loved, but who would save Finch-Fletchley?

And who would save Harry, if it came to that?

Shaken and ill, Severus spent the rest of the school day giving his students pop quizzes and trying to forget.


	4. Lost and Losing Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings: intense homophobia, descriptions of graphic violence. Summary: Harry's life is falling apart, and Severus comes to terms with the fact that he'll have to step in and save him. Again._

##  **Chapter 4**

* * *

_Lost and Losing Hope_

### May 1, 1999

Severus held the anniversary edition of the Prophet in shaking hands and read story after story of the bravery of his colleagues. How Minerva had refused to bend, refused to abandon her students to the Death Eaters. How Longbottom had rallied the students and killed the snake. How Harry had given his very life to defeat the monster known as Riddle.

Then he turned the page and his heart leapt into his throat. The entire second page was a tribute to his _own_ life. To everything Severus Tobias Snape had given, had endured, to end the war. Severus had no doubt that Harry had moved heaven and earth to have such an article published. The purebloods in charge of the Prophet had never forgotten Severus’ inclinations, nor had anyone else in wizarding Britain. Even at the height of his power, they spoke of Severus in whispers as he walked past, exchanging vitriol behind cupped hands and scowls. They called him an upstart, anomaly, and that was only when Riddle was about to keep waggling tongues in check. In ‘polite’ company, the old terms still polluted the air wherever Severus went, thicker than blood and fouler than potion fumes.

Severus didn’t care, not for his own sake. Lucius had destroyed any lingering interest in sex of any sort, and even if the traitorous bastard hadn’t, Severus refused to tar any of Britain’s innocents with his brush. He refused to make life as miserable for anyone else as it had been for him. A few moments of transient pleasure wasn’t worth the cost.

At times, he wondered if the cruelty would have stopped if the public had known Lucius had been his first and only homosexual affair. Then he recalled Slughorn’s contract offers, the suspicious looks Sinistra had shot him every time he counselled a male student, and Minerva’s constant mistrust. No, it would never end. No one had ever cared for him, not one person since the moment Lucius had let the details of their clandestine affair … _slip_.

And that made the page-long article of respect and honour for Severus’ sacrifices all the more shocking. The words blurred behind a veil of tears. _Harry_ had done this. Harry had … well, Severus had no idea how the young man had forced an article like this through the Prophet’s editors, but somehow he _had_ , and Merlin, Severus could hardly stand to read it, so bittersweet and poignant were the words.

He stared at line after line of text praising his courage, his determination, and entire paragraphs condemning those who had scorned him. Harry did not touch on the homophobia—perhaps he wasn’t aware of it—but he had nonetheless eviscerated everyone who had ever treated Severus Snape with hatred and disdain, even down to Harry’s own family. Neither James Potter nor Sirius Black nor even Lily Potter Evans were spared the saviour’s righteous wrath. Severus wept, rocked him to his core and grateful, gods, so fucking grateful that, after all this time, someone had _finally_ seen something of worth in him. Beauty, honour, and bravery beyond all reason. Harry’s words.

Severus could hardly believe it, hardly even process the boy’s forgiveness, his unfathomable compassion for a man who had, until the end, treated him like utter shite.

Then Severus saw the photo accompanying the article, and he wondered if it was possible to choke to death from grief.

A black-and-white version of Harry knelt before an unmarked headstone of dark granite. Pale and trembling, Harry touched the stone with a gentle hand, whispered something Severus couldn’t decipher, and the simple stone changed into a full grave-marker reading: _‘Master Severus Tobias Snape: Spy, Professor, Headmaster, and Hero of the Darkest War.’_

 _Hero._ Dear gods, Harry thought of _him_ , Severus Snape, as a _hero_.

Severus buried his face in his hands, overcome by grief. By the time he recovered enough to look at the photo again, it had changed.

Harry was running a gentle hand over the headstone. The young man’s fingers caught on the etched letters of Severus’ first name, and he let slip a silent sob. Tears streaking his face, expression twisted with anguish, Harry laid his forehead against the granite and whispered words Severus didn’t need sound to understand.

_“I’m sorry.”_

With a shattered cry, Severus folded the paper and pushed it away, unable to bear any more.

Even through his habitual Occlumency shields, the image of Harry weeping over his grave haunted Severus’ dreams for many nights to come.

Had he made the right choice in leaving the boy behind?

  


### May 12, 1999

####  Trouble in Paradise: Potter-Weasley Wedding Postponed

Severus’ coffee and bagel lay untouched, both growing cold as he stared at the Prophet’s front-page photo. Harry had, over the past year, grown into the body of a man, but the hollows in his cheeks suggested he might return to that waif-like state he had embodied during the war soon. Faint shadows nestled into the space under his eyes and those gorgeous irises darted about as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Harry had chapped the corner of his lip again, and indeed, he was chewing on it even that moment, a nervous habit even freedom couldn’t break him of, apparently.

But it was his expression, that fearful, haunted, lonely expression that Severus couldn’t stop watching. It was too akin to what Severus had felt as a young man, even the twin scourges of guilt and shame shadowed Harry’s eyes, like they had done for Severus twenty years earlier, before he had sworn off any hope of romantic entanglements. Gods. Harry looked _just_ the same. And Severus feared what that similarity might mean for the young man.

Severus recalled the recent article concerning his life, the glaring lack of reference to his suffering by homophobic bigots when every other aspect of his sacrifices had been honoured, and suddenly wondered if Harry hadn’t left it out on purpose. If the boy was homosexual himself, he might have feared drawing attention to his own proclivities in defence of Severus’.

Harry was a brave soul, but the boy wasn’t suicidal. Severus didn’t begrudge him his moment of discretion, if it spared him pain.

Merlin, Severus didn’t like where his thoughts were leading him. He hoped he was wrong. The thought of Harry suffering like Severus himself had crushed Severus’ chest as if in a vice.

Fuck, this wasn’t what he wanted. Severus had left the wizarding world so Harry could be _happy_. So they all could be. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to Harry, for whom Severus had given so much. Damn it, it wasn’t right that after everything they had sacrificed, everything they had done, Harry was forced to either accept a life of false cheer, denial, and cold, lonely nights, or a life of censure and abuse. He had given _everything_ for wizarding Britain, even down to his own life. The least they could do was give Harry the freedom to be happy.

But Severus wasn’t a fool. Britain would never accept a gay hero, no more than they had accepted a gay spy. It was the other reason Severus had left. There was simply no place for him, not in a world where being gay was worse than being a dark lord.

That article, it was lovely, beautiful, and had nearly ripped the heart from Severus’ chest, but if not for Harry, no one would have honoured Severus’ sacrifices at all. No one would have dared attempt to understand him, had Harry not forced them to. And Severus was not so optimistic to entertain the fool’s hope that they would have listened to Harry at all, war heroes be damned, had they not believed Severus to be dead and the ‘danger’ he presented to their precious bloodlines a thing of the past.

If Severus had stayed, if he hadn’t _died_ , he never would have made it long enough to see the anniversary, and this time it wouldn’t have been a fake death. The aurors would have simply executed Severus on the spot as soon as they found him. Or perhaps, if they were feeling charitable or if Harry had found him first, they might have condemned him to life in Azkaban and an … _accidental_ Dementor’s kiss instead.

Severus shuddered and pushed the paper away. No, there was no place in wizarding Britain for a man like him. But if he was right about Harry, if what he read in the boy’s haunted eyes was true, there would soon be no place left for the Chosen One either.

Not for the first time since that terrible night at the Leaky, Severus wondered if he should have stayed in Britain to help Harry recover, welcome or not.

  


### May 21, 1999

Once again, the morning Prophet had left Severus without an appetite. He stared at the photo of Harry longer than he wanted to admit, watched as Ronald Weasley landed blow after blow on his non-violent friend. For an interminable amount of time, Severus held his breath and wished Harry would fight back. At least raise a fist to defend himself.

Then he did, and Severus wished he hadn’t.

Pushed beyond his limit, Harry punched Ronald so hard in the jaw, Severus didn’t need sound to hear the crack of breaking bones. Teeth went flying, blood and spittle sprayed the younger man, and Severus watched the light of fury fade from Harry’s eyes as fast as it had come.

Ronald stared at Harry as if he didn’t know who he was, even as a horrified, weeping Harry cast a spell to heal the young man’s jaw. Ronald spat at him as soon as he recovered the power to, said something that made Harry curl into a protective ball, and apparated away, leaving the Chosen One kneeling alone on a street full of bystanders.

Severus stared at the photo until the scene restarted, then pushed the paper away. He didn’t need the article to know why Ronald had brutalised Harry. The fool had always been far too protective of his little sister. Still, Severus wondered if the man had discovered Harry’s secret. This seemed like too harsh a beating for just the usual _‘you hurt my sister!’_ act. No, this reeked of homophobic hate crimes, and Severus feared for Harry’s safety if even his supposed best friend had attacked him for his preferences.

With a sigh, Severus placed a call to his school’s dean and warned him that a family member had run into trouble and he might be required to return to Britain for a time in the near future. The dean reminded him that summer was a sabbatical for professors, at least the first month of it after the typical end-of-year clean up. Severus had no need to worry about taking time off, so long as he was able to finish out the year and prepare his classroom for next term.

Though relieved, Severus hoped he need not have to use his sabbatical anytime soon. At least not for the purpose of a rescue mission. He liked his new life far too much to leave it behind just to come back from the dead.

  


### May 31, 1999

####  End of an Era: Harry Potter’s Dream Romance Over

Once again, the Prophet left Severus shaken. Apparently Ginevra Weasley had stormed out of Harry’s bookstore claiming the man had never really cared about her, that old obsessions never died, and Harry could go to hell.

The line about ‘obsessions’ had troubled Severus deeply. What fixation was so strong in Harry’s life that it had driven away his supposedly devoted fiancée? The war, perhaps? A man he cared about?

Merlin, Severus hoped it wasn’t the latter. If Ginevra knew, Harry would be outed before the end of the week.

Even as Severus pushed the paper aside and tossed it in the bin, creeping, cold dread sank its claws into his spine. Somehow, he had the sinking feeling the next headline concerning Harry would be even worse.

  


### June 3, 1999

He was right.

Severus trudged into his last day of term before finals began. Nothing new had surfaced about Harry in the Prophet yet—thank Merlin—but that feeling of icy trepidation had refused to leave him since the last article.

Severus had already taught his students everything possible by this point, so he had little to do this morning other than supervise his students’ revision. He needn’t even worry about grading tests. After Severus’ troubled request earlier in the month, the dean had arranged for the distraught man’s final exams to be given by a substitute. Though he had thanked the Dean profusely for his thoughtfulness, it was a small comfort when Severus knew the reason behind the man’s concession: Harry was in trouble, and any moment, Severus might have to swoop in and rescue his charge. Again.

Gods, he didn’t want to go back to Britain. He _really_ didn’t want to go back. Ever.

Even so, for Harry, he would do it. If he had absolutely _no_ other choice.

His first class filed in and stumbled to their seats, each student looking as if they had just dragged themselves out of bed. Seeing as it was the last class before finals and his students had likely spent half the night cramming, it was probably the truth. Severus waited until precisely eight A.M. before he stood and addressed his students in a lower-than-usual voice, in deference to Jensen, who appeared to have developed a first-class migraine.

“I have done all I can to prepare you by this point. Since I am well aware you have little time and many exams for which to prepare, I will allow you this hour for your own studies. I am available if you need help with anything. Jensen, come here please.”

The trembling, pale, redheaded girl staggered to Severus’ desk and stood swaying before it. He scratched out a note and gave it to her. “Go visit the nurse and use this time to rest. You cannot attend in that kind of pain.”

The girl nodded, winced at the movement, and made herself scarce. Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose and settled in for a long, boring day.

A knock on the door interrupted his quiet reflection, and a shiver trickled down from the base of Severus’ skull. Somehow, he doubted he would find a student on the other side of that door. Jensen wouldn’t have returned so soon in such terrible condition and no one else had any reason to contact him during finals preparation. Something wasn’t right.

Palms sweaty and cold at once, Severus dragged himself to the door and pulled it open.

Well, it _was_ a student, but she had a booklet of some sort in hand. Severus’ heart stilled.

“Professor Meredith? This just came for you via the front desk, marked urgent.” The student frowned. “Though I have to question why someone being outed would qualify as urgent news.”

_‘Oh, thank Merlin.’_

If a Muggle could read the booklet, it couldn’t be a special edition of the Prophet. It couldn’t be about Harry, as all Severus’ magical newspapers were spelled against Muggles. His heart beat again.

Severus frowned as he took the booklet from her. “Outed?”

“Yeah, revealed as being gay. Or lesbian, but it’s a guy in the article, so ….”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Contrary to popular belief, Miss …?”

“Orville.”

“Miss Orville, I am not _completely_ oblivious. The vernacular is quite comprehensible to me, particularly in this case as I have suffered the same fate myself. I was simply agreeing with you that I cannot understand why such news would be earth-shattering.”

Well, it _would_ have been in wizarding Britain, but not in San Francisco. For the most part, Californian wizards had more sense than to squabble over foolish things such as bloodlines and sexual preferences.

Even so, Severus wouldn’t have dared out himself if he hadn’t watched one of his own students come out earlier that year with no issues. The girl was still just as popular and accepted as she had always been, thankfully. He would have had to step in to protect her otherwise, and he would rather there never be a need to do so again.

Miss Orville’s eyes went round as saucers. “Oh my god, you’re _gay_ , Professor Meredith?”

Severus froze, his blood icy and sluggish in his veins. Shite, had he misjudged? What if lesbians were accepted here but not gays? Merlin, he didn’t want to have to start all over _again_.

Struggling to keep his fear hidden, he straightened to his full height and pinned the girl with a sharp gaze. “Is that an issue, Miss Orville?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “No, no. Of course it’s not a problem. It’s not like you can _help_ who you love.”

Severus began to breathe again, until her next statement sucked all the air from his lungs.

“It’s just that … you’re so _hot_ , sir. All the girls will be so disappointed.”

Severus coughed and reeled back, stunned. Heat crept into his cheeks despite intense mental shielding.

He gasped out, “H-hot?” Dear gods! In leaving Britain, had he stepped into an alternate universe?

“Well, yeah! That sexy long hair, regal face, whip-crack intelligence, and dear gods, that voice. It’s like liquid sex.”

Severus choked, his blush deepening. To his dismay, several of his own students called out their enthusiastic agreement with the girl’s assessment of his … finer attributes.

It took the utterly gobsmacked Severus a moment to regain his faculties.

“I … I … you must be … oh, dear gods, t-that is … completely absurd.” Severus shook his head and, with an heroic effort, composed himself. “I am terribly sorry to disappoint you and your female friends, Miss Orville, but even if I _did_ have a prurient interest in the fairer sex, I would never engage in sexual relations with a student.” He shivered in disgust. “It is entirely immoral and, I will remind you, against the school’s policies. Either way, this conversation has now gone far beyond the bounds of propriety, so I suggest you hand over my mail and return to class at once.”

She heaved another dramatic sigh, gave him the booklet, and pranced away with a wave of farewell.

Severus sank into his chair, still shaking his head. Hot? _Him_? Severus-Greasy Git-Snape? Who on _earth_ set the standards of desirability for American college students?

With a dismayed little huff, he opened the booklet Miss Orville had delivered and his stomach turned to lead .

It _wasn’t_ a booklet. It was a special edition of The Daily Prophet after all. Mother of Merlin, Miss Orville must have been a Squib.

As a photo of a harassed-looking Harry peered up at him, begging his aid with frightened, hollow eyes, Severus barely strangled back a horrified cry.

####  Witches’ Hearts Break All Over England: Harry Potter is Gay!

_No._ Severus dropped the paper with a gasp. Oh dear Merlin. Ginevra _had_ outed Harry, the conniving little bitch. She had no idea what kind of censure Harry would face, no idea what kind of danger she had put Harry in. Or maybe she _did_ know, and she was twice as much of a bitch.

Either way, Severus wanted to strangle her.

Fuck. Harry’s only hope now was that his glamourous reputation could overcome the horrible stigma of his sexual preference. Severus scanned the article for incendiary language or defamation, but it appeared Patil was either too stunned or too loyal to Harry to have revealed any latent homophobic tendencies. The fact that she had called him gay rather than a ‘line-ender’ was promising, but not enough of a buffer to protect him if the other writers at the Prophet decided to take up arms against him.

If they did, Severus would be returning to his homeland much sooner than he had hoped.

He groaned and lowered his head into his hand. Not even ten in the morning and he already had a headache.

  


### June 10, 1999

Patil soon left her career at the Prophet, most likely a forced decision as she refused to malign Harry. Her replacement, Tracey Davis, had no such qualms. She speculated on the ‘cause of Harry’s _abnormality_ ’ at will, citing everything from an abusive home life to dark curses and potions received during the final battle. She even had the gall to suggest that perhaps Harry had plans to ‘take over’ for the Dark Lord, because surely no good wizard could ever be _gay_.

It was a disaster. Every time Severus saw some new fantastical rumour about Harry’s sexuality, he remembered strongly why he had left Britain in the first place.

Prejudiced bastards. They were setting themselves up for the rise of another dark lord simply by alienating half their population. Hadn’t Harry told them that himself in the trials? Obviously no one had been listening, not that Severus was surprised. They cared about nothing but their blood purity nonsense. They had no interest in altering their own attitudes no matter how harmful, no matter that the same kind of prejudice had engendered a decades-long war against a eugenicist autocrat.

Bloody idiots, the lot of them.

It would serve Britain right if another dark lord _did_ rise because of their prejudice, and this time without their precious heroes to swoop in and save them. Severus certainly had no intention of fighting for them ever again, and he would be damned before he let Harry sacrifice himself on their altar again. No, Severus had fought the war for Harry, and he would fight for Harry again, but for Britain? Britain could screw itself.

Severus sighed and pushed the paper away. He would have to return soon, to rescue Harry and get him out of that nightmare, but how on earth would he convince the man to leave the only home he had ever known?

Shite. Severus couldn’t go back without a plan. He was content with being dead to Britain, and he had no intention of risking discovery without at least a reasonable hope of success. He just had to hope Harry could hold on until he could think of something— _anything_ —that might convince him.

“Soon, Harry. I promise. It will be over soon.”

Severus downed the rest of his coffee and settled in for a long strategizing session.

  


### June 17, 1999

In the end, it was the latest macabre alterations of Harry’s moniker that drove Severus back to England, with or without a plan. He had just sat down to a glass of after-dinner scotch when the next Daily Prophet ‘special edition’ barrelled through his floo and landed in disarray at his feet. Guts churning with dread, Severus picked up the paper and gingerly pulled it open.

####  Boy-Who-Lived-To-Die? Harry Potter Missing After Brawl in Diagon Alley

Severus gasped and glanced quickly down to the photo below the heading. It showed Harry bleeding and bruised, lying in the middle of the road while a group of purebloods kicked at him relentlessly.

 _Brawl_ indeed. More like a murder being done.

Rage and indignation surged through Severus. So _this_ was how Britain treated their precious Chosen One, simply because he was gay. _This_ was how they repaid Harry for saving all of their worthless hides.

Severus snarled. He still hadn’t thought of a good enough reason to convince Harry to come back with him, but by gods, he couldn’t leave the boy in _that_ state. Merlin, it looked as though the attackers had broken bones! No, Severus couldn’t leave him like that. He would just have to go back, ready or not, and take care of Harry with care and gentleness. If he was lucky, perhaps seeing Severus’ gentle side and hearing all the benefits to leaving Britain would be enough to convince the boy to leave it behind. It wasn’t the best idea, but it was all Severus had.

And if it didn’t work, well, Severus would just have to keep trying until it did.

In America, Harry would be free to be himself. There would be no press to hound him and no prejudiced idiots to break his heart and bones. If he wanted to, Harry could open a new bookstore in San Francisco. Severus even knew of a shopfront for sale in Verticalle Alley. If the boy had any stock left, San Francisco’s erudite wizarding populous would no doubt flock to a store with rare, imported magical texts. And even if Harry had lost everything, Severus would be glad to assist him in acquiring new stock before they left Britain. Polyjuice or glamours would do to hide them from the Diagon Alley crowd, surely. No doubt the boy’s Gryffindor pride would put up a fight against the offer to help, but Severus would remind Harry that he could always pay the man back once he was on his feet again.

It had to work. At least, Severus _hoped_ it would. Harry’s life would be hell in Britain, if he survived long enough to live it.

Now, if only he knew where to find the boy, he could work at bringing him home.

Severus frowned and picked up the paper again, scanning the photo for details. Though the identities of some of Harry’s attackers both horrified and shocked him, Severus soon thought he had an idea of the place Harry had been attacked. He could start from there and trace Harry’s blood signature back to wherever he had hidden, assuming the boy hadn’t learned to hide it yet.

He would find him anyway. Even if Harry _had_ learned, there were always other, less savoury ways of tracking him. Severus would rather not use them unless he had to, but he would if that was what it took to find the boy and save his life. After all, Severus’ former ‘colleagues’ among the dark would certainly not hesitate to utilise those methods—or even darker magic—if they knew Harry was weak and unprotected. Some of them would have nothing to lose.

A chill settled over him. Fuck. He had to hurry. He was already a day behind, going by the date on the headline, and that would have been published after the fact too.

With the speed of a man accustomed to life on the run, Severus rushed back to his flat, packed a valise with essentials—including a healing and surgical kit. With his emergency kit packed, Severus disillusioned and spelled himself against notice, focused on the spot he was sure Harry had last been seen, and apparated away from the life he had come to love.

_‘This had better be worth the cost.’_

Who was he kidding? Harry had lodged himself firmly in Severus’ life, ever since the boy had been a squalling baby in his arms. He had always been there to save Harry and he always would be. Harry Potter would _always_ be worth it.


	5. Resurrected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : discussion of graphic violence, intense homophobia. Summary: Harry managed to escape the scene of his brutal attack and thinks he's hallucinating when his hero comes to rescue him--again._
> 
> _***AN: Apologies for the slow updates. I'm not doing well at all physically and have much less time to write due to my toddler being more active. This is the last pre-written chapter I have, too.***_

##  **Chapter 5**

* * *

_Resurrected_

### June 19, 1999

For the hundredth time in an hour, Harry Potter wished he’d ignored Hermione Granger’s snit when he’d tried to purchase a new house elf just after the final battle. With both Kreacher and Dobby dead, he had no one left to help him when everyone he had ever trusted had turned on him and his body felt broken into a million pieces.

 _‘Friends for life indeed,’_ thought Harry bitterly as he recalled the last time he had seen Ron Weasley. In the crowd, watching as Death Eater Juniors and Light warriors alike had kicked, punched, and spat on their supposed hero. Harry had cried out to him for help, and Ron had turned his back and apparated away.

Even Neville had watched Harry suffer but, judging by the green-tinged horror that had twisted his expression, he hadn’t been a willing participant. He hadn’t stopped it either though, and that betrayal hurt worse than the physical pain.

Then again, it _was_ thirty to one. Neville alone couldn’t have done much against such a crowd, and his interference might have made the mob hurt Harry worse, or even driven the mob to murder. Harry didn’t know, however, and he was hurting too much to think on it for long. Even if Neville still cared about him, Harry had still lost everyone else he had ever loved in one fell swoop, and all for _nothing_.

It was a pureblood thing, apparently, to hate gays. Harry hadn’t even realised he was gay until Ginny had all but forced him to agree to a marriage contract, and it was just luck that he had heard what had happened to Justin Finch-Fletchley before he decided to call it off and reveal his own inclinations. Even the kind-hearted Arthur Weasley had turned vicious at the news of a ‘line-ender.’

It hadn’t taken long for Harry to gather that if the Weasleys knew he didn’t particularly care for women either, he’d no longer be welcome at family dinners. When they started spewing vitriol about the poor sod as if they had always known he was ‘a bad egg,’ Harry wondered if he even _wanted_ to be welcome at their dinners. When the abuse against Justin became a weekly free-for-all, however, Harry decided he’d had enough.

  


_Harry leapt up and slammed his hands on the dinner table, glaring at his supposed surrogate family. “What the hell is wrong with all of you? Just because Justin likes guys, that makes him as bad as Voldemort? Fuck that! It’s the same kind of bigotry we all fought to stop! The same kind of hatred people like your own bloody son and brother gave his life to end. Merlin, I’m ashamed of all of you.”_

_Hermione blushed pink and lowered her head, but didn’t say a word in Harry’s defence when everyone except an obviously disgusted Percy rounded on him. They tried to make Harry see ‘reason,’ but Harry could see nothing good in forcing a gay man to reproduce just to keep the lines pure._

_“Sounds a lot like Riddle’s anti-Muggleborn rhetoric if you ask me.” He stood and scowled at them all. “Don’t expect me back to dinner—or anything here for that matter—until you learn to conduct yourselves like the decent human beings I thought you were.” With a dramatic flare of his robes even Snape would’ve appreciated, Harry turned on his heel and apparated away._

  


He had kept his word, too. He hadn’t been back to the Burrow since then. Nor had Percy, according to Hermione. Now, he supposed he would never return. In fact, he was thinking it might be time to leave the wizarding world altogether, if this was how they intended to treat him for falling in love with his hero. It wasn’t like Harry could do anything about it even without the prejudices.

His hero was dead.

The hopelessness of his situation was partially why he had agreed to marry Ginny in spite of his growing misgivings. Harry’s lost Prince would never return, so what was the point in waiting for him?

But it had been no good. As hard as Harry had tried to hide his leanings, Ginny had realised there was something wrong. Harry hadn’t been able to touch her. He’d refused all advances beyond a simple snogging session, and even that he wasn’t particularly interested in.

She had accused him of cheating, claimed he had never loved her, and so on, but the clincher had been when she discovered the photo under his pillow, the one Harry cherished and kept close to him at all times. The one he caressed in the dark when no one was about, when no one would see.

He’d tried to claim the photo had simply fallen there, which was probably a lame excuse in and of itself, but the subtle marks of wear and tear—of _love_ —had given him away.

The accusations had flown then and Harry had screamed her out of the door, hoping to keep her from landing on the truth, but while she might have missed the obvious conclusion, her brother didn’t. Ginny had gone straight home and told Ron, and it was enough for the up and coming auror strategist to put the pieces together.

 _Ron_ had unearthed the truth about Harry’s ‘obsession.’ Ron had outed his best friend as a gay man in a world that hated homosexuals. Harry’s supposed best friend had attacked the man he had once considered a brother, then stood by and watched— _laughed_ —as a mob did the same.

Ron—Harry’s first friend, his compatriot, his brother—had left Harry to die, beaten to a pulp by ignorant purebloods who might as well have been Death Eaters, all because Harry preferred men. Not even men— _man_. No one else had ever caught his fancy like his Prince and no one ever would.

Harry supposed he might have expected a violent reaction given who he had allied his heart with. Ron had always loathed Snape with far more passion than Harry, but this was beyond extreme.

Now that he thought about it, Harry remembered Ron making pointed jabs during their school days about the man being a pervert, a monster, and ‘a waste of a decent bloodline.’ Harry had just put it down to general hatred at the time, but now a much more insidious picture had begun to form.

Ron was a pureblood as much as he tended not to act like one much of the time. Harry supposed at least one of the pureblood prejudices had to stick to Ron and his family eventually. Law of averages and all that rot. Still, of all the prejudices the Weasleys might have ascribed to, Harry wished it hadn’t been the one that affected _him_ the most.

They had been family, or so he had thought.

Family? In retrospect, maybe he should have expected something like this. He had lost three families before his nineteenth birthday. And what really hurt—all three of his supposed families would have treated him the exact same way once they had learned the truth about Harry’s orientation. His godfather would have disowned him—the Weasleys _had_ disowned him. The Dursleys, well, Harry supposed it would have only cemented their belief in his ‘freakiness.’ And his father—his father probably would have _killed_ him. Perhaps literally, given the state the mob had left him in.

Tears pooled at the corners of Harry’s eyes and burned a path down cut and bruised temples into his hair. It was just as well. Maybe they would wash some of the blood out.

Harry didn’t understand how it had come to this. How could the same people that had helped him conquer the most evil wizard in centuries, people vehemently aligned with the light, have so much darkness and hatred in their hearts? Gods, it made no sense, and the longer he thought on it the less he understood.

Maybe it was best to stop thinking. Sleep would have been good, if only it didn’t hurt to breathe. Harry groaned and tried to turn onto his side, hoping to relieve the pressure on his injured back and ribs, but his body refused to move.

Was this the end for him then? Ironic, really, to have defeated the darkest wizard of the age only to die at the hand of a bunch of idiots who barely knew which way to hold their wand. Harry could have hurt them if he had wanted to—he had enough power to remind them of their place quickly enough—but he _hated_ doing that. He didn’t want a place in society if he had to earn it by fear. He’d rather die.

It was a small comfort that, if his situation didn’t change soon, that could very well prove to be the price for his passivity.

  


* * *

  


Hours passed, and Harry fell into delirium. Lack of water and fever had turned his mind into a mess of hallucinations and pain. At least, Harry thought they were hallucinations. His parents were dead. There was no reason why James Potter should be gloating over him and his mother looking as though she wanted to kill her husband. No reason why Sirius should be staring at him as if he was something disgusting on the bottom of his shoe. No reason why Remus should look as though he didn’t know who to believe—Lily or the Marauders.

No reason why gentle hands, soft and warm, should stroke his hair back from his face or a deep voice should murmur in his ear, “Hush, Potter. I am here now.”

Harry knew that voice, knew that man. He had to be hallucinating if _he_ was here. “S-sir?”

A gentle touch caressed his cheek. “Ssh. You are safe now, Harry. I will heal you.”

“Alive,” Harry whispered, tears falling unchecked. “How?”

“Later, Potter. You are too ill to discuss anything of substance. Rest now.”

“My … hero ….”

He was being completely serious, but his visitor must have taken it as a joke. He chuckled and gently patted Harry’s cheek. When Harry winced, the man’s mirth faded.

“Not so very heroic of me to leave you to this.” The man shook his head and sighed. “I thought I had done the right thing, thought I was making a good decision, but now I wish I had taken you with me.”

“Yeah,” Harry murmured, half asleep. “Go with you.”

A soft chuckle met his ears. “All right. We must get you well first. Sleep, Potter. I will take care of you.”

“Always … took care of me.”

Gentle fingertips brushed over his scar. “I am glad you see that now. Rest.”

“Mm-hmm.” Despite the pain and grief tearing him in two, Harry sank into the most peaceful sleep he had known in years.

His hero was _alive!_

  


* * *

  


Harry woke to a darkened room and soothing warmth behind his back. Ginny? No, the hand lightly holding his waist was stronger, more masculine than Ginny’s had ever been. Harry was sure he’d seen it before, on someone he trusted implicitly. After a moment to take stock of his condition, Harry realised he was doing much better physically. He tried to turn, but a soft voice, deep and dark and one he never imagined he would hear again, murmured to him.

“Do not move, Harry. Your spine is still in bad condition. I have done all I am able to tonight.”

Harry’s heart stopped. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be real. He _had_ to be dreaming. “S-Snape?”

“Yes, though I respond to a different name these days.”

Harry tried to leap up and instantly regretted it. A strong hand eased him back against the bed.

“Go easy, Potter. You are still gravely injured.”

Harry groaned and turned to face the man as best as he could. Snape helped him turn with an aggrieved sigh.

“I don’t understand. You _died_!”

Snape winced and looked away. “To wizarding Britain, I did. I would not have survived long enough to make it to a trial had I stayed.”

“I wouldn’t have let them hurt you.” Harry gripped that strong, elegant hand fiercely in his own, tears blinding him. “Gods, sir. How—how could you just … I thought you were _dead_ and it was _all my fault_! I just _left_ you there. And you were ….” He broke into sobs and buried his face in the pillow. “Why could you have not at least let me know you were all right? I … I couldn’t bear it. Hurt so much that I couldn’t even say goodbye.”

Snape stroked Harry’s hair in a soothing gesture. “Had I known it would distress you so, I would have. I am sorry, Harry. I never imagined my death—the death of the professor you loathed—would cause you so much pain.”

Harry forced his breathing to calm—for one thing, every damn sob felt like a knife through his ribs. For another, he couldn’t get two words out like this.

“From that moment in the shack, sir, when you were dying but you used your last breaths to apologise to me—well, what I thought were your last breaths—I haven’t hated you.” His face contorted with the strength of his anguish. “But I think … you must’ve hated me after all to have left me without any h-hope, any way to contact you. You left me with nothing but an empty hole in my heart. I thought I had _lost_ you forever! I thought … I had thrown everything away. Too late. I was too late.”

Snape’s hand paused, and a tremble passed through it. “Harry … Merlin, what are you saying?”

Harry sobbed and buried his face in the pillow again. “Nothing. It’s nothing. The way Ron’s been lately showed me just what the wizarding world thinks of people like me. You’ll only hate me too.”

“You mean what Britain thinks of homosexuals?” Severus gave a bitter laugh. “Why do you imagine I left this place, Harry?”

Harry froze, desperate fear and hope warring within him. “S-Snape, you’re really gay?”

Snape’s voice was cautious and low with worry. “Are you going to loathe me for it?”

“No. I think they’re mad to treat people so badly just because they love the same gender. Besides, you’ve seen the Prophet. Had to, if you’ve come to find me here. Loathing you would be awfully hypocritical of me.”

The hand on Harry’s waist tightened convulsively. “You … do not find me repellent because I take … took my comforts with men?”

“Merlin, no.” Harry slipped his hand over Severus’. “I’m … glad. Though also sorry, because it must have hurt you.”

Severus laced his fingers with Harry’s. “Yes. We shall speak of it in the morning, Harry. I am still quite tired, and I find I would much rather be having this conversation face to face.”

Harry held Severus’ hand tight, heart racing and full to bursting with joy. “I … I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep. Too wound up.”

“Try. You need rest. You are still severely injured and need time to recover.”

“Stay?”

Warm breath and an aquiline nose burrowed into Harry’s neck. “Yes.”

Harry fell asleep listening to the sound of Severus’ breathing, happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. Against all the odds, his hero had come home.

  


* * *

  


A beam of light shone straight onto Harry’s eyelids and he flinched from the blood-red ache. “Ghn. What?”

A pair of glasses settled on his nose and adjusted to his prescription automatically. Wizarding glasses, he supposed. Harry blinked sleep away as the world came into focus.

“Welcome to the land of the living, Mister Potter.”

A deep, dark voice— _that_ voice, the one he had been missing so long—brushed against his eardrums and brought him to wakefulness with a jolt.

“Snape! Oh gods, it wasn’t a dream!”

The man was lounging in a conjured leather armchair beside Harry’s bed, one ankle crossed over his knee and his black eyes fixed on Harry’s. A trickle of warm laughter rose from Severus’ throat, and Harry nearly melted on the spot.

“Merlin,” Harry said in a breathless rasp. “Laugh more often please.”

Severus smiled, and the brilliance of it took the rest of Harry’s breath away. Wherever the man had escaped to had obviously done him worlds of good. The crooked yellow teeth Harry remembered had gone, to be replaced by straight pearly whites. His nose hadn’t changed, but on a face vibrant with health and happiness, it fit better. His eyes were bright and warm, and the perpetual greasiness had gone from that gorgeous fall of silky black hair. It rested straight and fine as a raven’s wing against his throat and fell past his shoulders. And dear Merlin, the man _wasn’t_ in black! He had on a blue button-down that fit him well and dark grey trousers that fit him even better.

Harry’s throat dried up at the sight of him. “Wow. Wherever you’ve been hiding has most _definitely_ agreed with you.”

Severus flushed and leaned onto his knees, letting his crossed-over foot drop to the floor. “It has indeed. San Francisco is much more … accommodating to our kind.”

“San Francisco? Is that in Spain?”

Severus laughed again. “California.”

“America! My gods, you’ve been in the _States_? What’s it like?”

Severus smiled. “Lovely. Life there has been wonderful.”

Harry smiled back, but grief panged at his heart. “I’m … I’m really glad you’re happy, Se—sir. You deserve it.”

The light in Severus’ eyes dimmed. “So do you, Harry.”

“Yeah.” Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling. “Somehow I doubt that’ll ever happen.”

Hesitant, trembling fingertips brushed the side of Harry’s face. “Unless I misunderstood you last night,” Severus said in a voice barely above a breath, “I … I had thought … you would wish to stay near me.”

Harry shivered and leaned into his hand. “Would that be a bad thing?”

Severus paused, drew in a shaky breath, and whispered, “No.”

Harry turned his head towards the man and his breath hitched. Severus was scared. He had drawn in on himself, all his former easy confidence gone to a trembling mess of nerves. Harry lifted a trembling hand and reached for the man’s fingers, but his injuries wouldn’t let him move enough to close on them.

“Se—sir, I … look at me?”

The reiteration of some of Severus’ ‘dying’ words to Harry made the man jump and open his eyes like a shot. He stared at Harry’s straining hand as if unsure what to make of it.

“Well, go on then,” Harry said with a huff, wiggling his fingers. “I’d take your hand, but I can’t make my bloody arm move that far yet.” He blushed. “Well, I mean, if you want to.”

Trembling fingers slipped between Harry’s own. A warm palm met his, and Harry sighed with the sheer _joy_ , the tingling feeling spreading down his still-injured arm and into his chest. It was light and life and happiness all at once, and Merlin, Harry wanted more.

“Yeah,” he whispered as if afraid to break the spell. “Yeah, this’s nice.”

A tiny smile tipped up the corner of Severus’ mouth. “You truly think so? Even with my past and my age and ….”

“Wanted you for a year.” Harry kissed Severus’ knuckles. “Ever since you touched me that night in the shack.”

Blushing, Severus traced his free hand down Harry’s face. “You mean this touch?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed. “Like that.”

Tears welled and dropped down his temples as the pain of that moment overwhelmed him again. How many times had he relived it since then, wondering, _wishing_ he would have known what to do to save Severus’ life? Knowing that a piece of him had gone beyond with Severus, never to return? Only now Severus was _here_ , he was real, and he was touching Harry as if he really cared.

Even in his dreams, Harry had never imagined a reunion would be like this.

Severus gently brushed Harry’s tears away, and did it again when more fell. When Harry broke into choked sobs of relief and anguish at once, Severus knelt down to the bed and held the young man in his arms.

“Severus,” Harry breathed, unable to correct himself this time. He would just have to hope that romantic touches and weeping into the man’s shoulder gave him the right to use the man’s forename.

“I am here,” Severus whispered in a trembling voice. “It will be all right now.”

Harry fisted a fold of the man’s shirt and pulled him down with as much strength as he possessed—not much, given the state of his body. “Don’t you dare leave me again. Don’t. I can’t do it again.”

Severus gently stroked Harry’s hair. “Ssh. I had actually wanted to ask if you would consider coming to California with me. Starting over there, where neither prejudice nor bad press can harm you.” He gave Harry a hesitant smile. “I would be honoured if you would accompany me.”

Harry gave him a tear-soaked smile. “Please. Take me away from this place. There’s nothing but pain left for me here.”

“I am with you.” Severus rested his head gently against Harry’s, filling the younger man’s nostrils with the fragrant scent of Severus’ shampoo. “I will protect you.”

“You always have.”

“Now that I know it is what you wish for, Harry, I always will.”

  


* * *

  


A long time passed before Harry could control his tears and let go of Severus long enough to let the man up. Severus’ knees cracked as he stood from the uncomfortable position and Harry winced.

“M’sorry,” he murmured to the pillow. “Didn’t want to hurt you.”

An elegant hand stroked through Harry’s mop. “Ssh. I have most certainly endured worse than creaking knees in my life, and for less reward.” Severus brushed the back of his hand down Harry’s cheek. “Do you think you might be able to take a bit of breakfast?”

Harry followed Severus’ hand as he drew it away. “Yeah, maybe if it’s not too heavy.”

“Very well. Where is your kitchen? I will prepare something for you.”

Harry fidgeted and blushed. “Er, it’s around the corner there, but um, I need the loo first. Could you ….”

A wandless spell tingled inside Harry’s lower belly and left him feeling empty and tingly.

“Better?”

Harry gasped. “Did you … oh gods.” Face flaming, he buried his face in his hands and hoped he would never need to come out again.

Severus gave a low laugh and pulled one of Harry’s hands away to kiss the knuckles. A jolt of sheer joy and pleasure shot through the younger man and stilled the breath in his lungs. He didn’t mind being the ‘butt’ of the joke if it meant Severus kept touching him like that.

“Nothing to trouble yourself over, Harry. You are injured too badly to go to the loo, so I will need to care for all your needs until it is possible to move you safely. Do not trouble yourself over it.”

Harry peeked out from behind his other hand and gave Severus a cheeky smile. “If I do trouble myself over it, will you kiss the other hand?”

A soft flush painted Severus’ cheeks. “Just your hands?”

Harry’s breath hitched. “I’d be … game for more than that.”

Severus’ eyes glowed with pleasure—and unexpected shyness. Those soft, warm lips descended to press a light kiss to Harry’s forehead, and the young man leaned into his caress with a sigh.

“Merlin,” Harry breathed. “If that’s what it feels like for you to kiss my forehead, I might faint if you kiss my mouth.”

Severus chuckled. “We shall save that for a day when you are better able to handle the shock then.”

“Not a shock,” Harry whispered, reaching for the man. “Pleasure. Needed you so long.”

Severus traced a fingertip along Harry’s temple and down his jawline. “Slowly, Harry. We should take the time to reacquaint ourselves. I fear you do not truly know much about me at all, given that everything I ever showed to you was a mask.”

Harry shook his head and cupped Severus’ hand over his face. “Not everything.”

Severus bowed in acknowledgement. “One moment is not enough to build a relationship. I need … time, Harry.” The man’s eyes filled with some secret pain, and Harry longed to kiss it away.

“All right, Severus. We’ll take it slow. As long as you’re willing to go on with me, I don’t mind if I need to wait a little longer. Just having you here, touching me at all—it’s like I’m dreaming.” Harry’s heart clenched. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

Severus kissed Harry’s fingers once more. “I shan’t.”

Harry smiled and squeezed Severus’ hand. “Good.”

Severus’ eyes went soft and warm again. “Indeed.”


	6. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : super-sweet fluff. Sev is MUCH softer in ... well, most of my fics, but especially this one. I have a plan for one where he's his typical angsty self for half the fic, but it's really hard for me to write that. I want them to stop being stupid already and play nice LOL. Anyway, if you're looking for angsty Sev, this isn't the fic for you. It's going to be fluff central between the boys from here on out._
> 
> _Summary : Severus' plan to take it slow falls by the wayside when Harry says a bit much and lets on that he loves him. Sev has been waiting too long to let that slip through his fingers._

##  **Chapter 6**

* * *

_Closer_

Harry lay on his stomach, enduring several rounds of intensive healing charms as Severus tried to fix his back. It would have worked better if Madame Pomfrey had helped, perhaps, but Harry had no idea how the woman would treat him now that his secret was out, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Severus was skilled enough to make do.

“Where’d you learn to heal like this, Severus?”

Severus chuckled. “I see you have taken the right to use my forename for yourself.”

Harry flushed. “Er … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

Severus ran a hand through Harry’s hair and soothed him. “It was only an observation. I do not mind.”

Harry turned his head to face the man and grinned. “So I can call you Severus?”

“I believe that is what I just said.” Severus settled on the side of the bed and rummaged in a black medical-style bag. He pulled out a purple jar and a set of latex gloves, then placed the bag on the floor. “In answer to your question, I studied both Muggle and Wizarding medicine while in pursuit of my potions mastery, and since going to California, I have been working in the medical field as a researcher.” He gave Harry a shy smile. “I think it is what I was always meant to be doing, before ….” His expression darkened.

Harry couldn’t move much, but he took Severus’ hand and rubbed his fingertips. “I can see it. You’re brilliant, both in potions and spellcrafting. And duelling. And strategy.” He pouted. “Is there anything you’re _not_ good at, come to think of it?”

Severus scowled. “Dealing with dunderheads.”

Harry snorted and burst into laughter. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll give you that.” His heart ached as a terrible thought occurred to him. “I … I’m not like you, Severus. I don’t think I’m really good at anything. I’m not a genius like you or … or even really intelligent. I guess I’m just average. I … I don’t want … I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up.”

Severus shook his head and gently touched Harry’s face. His hand was trembling. “That is—I don’t even know where to begin.” He sighed. “Well, let us clear this up straight away.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I treated you terribly in school. I convinced you that you had no skill, no future, no brilliance, and while, perhaps, you are no potions prodigy—” He opened his eyes and held Harry’s gaze. “You were no dunderhead either.”

His expression changed to something pained and dark. “I fear I have ruined your abilities with potions. I have forever set you against the subject, and now … well, you may well have been a potions prodigy had I not torn your confidence to shreds.”

He lowered his head again, and that brought him close enough for Harry to reach his face. He traced gentle fingertips over Severus’ gorgeous cheekbones and angular jaw, stopping on soft, parted lips. Severus caught his breath at the caress and his fingers clutched the sheet.

“I forgave you long ago, Severus. The moment you looked at me with such remorse, such pain and fear in your beautiful eyes … I couldn’t hate you any longer. In fact, I … no, I shouldn’t.” Harry withdrew his hand and turned his face into the pillow, trying to hide a fierce blush.

He had almost just _come out_ with it. Merlin. That would have scared Severus away for certain.

A gentle hand stroked through Harry’s hair, then slipped under his neck and eased his chin around, lifting him from the pillow.

“In fact, what, Harry?”

Harry shivered, terrified to speak. And yet … Severus’ eyes were wide and full of hope. His face was flushed and his hand on Harry’s chin trembled.

Harry swallowed, trying to calm the swarm of butterflies in his stomach and his racing heart. He couldn’t just … could he?

“I ….” He winced. “Severus, I don’t know … I don’t think you’re ready. I … I don’t want to scare you.”

Severus’ eyes took on a sheen—tears? Gods, _tears_? He … why?

“Oh, shite!” Harry reached for his hand in a panic. “It’s okay! I won’t say anything. I … gods, I’m sorry. It was just too much. Shite, I’m such an idiot.”

A gentle finger pressed against Harry’s lips and caressed him into silence. How was he to be expected to say anything with fire stealing his breath at Severus’ every touch?

“Tell me.” Severus cupped Harry’s face and moved in, his cheeks red and his eyes wide. “Tell me the truth. Be honest with me from the start. I … I need … never heard it.”

Harry blanched. “Never, Severus?”

Severus shook his head slightly and looked down, but the brimming on his lashes was what really convinced Harry the man had always been entirely without love and, even if Harry lost him for revealing his heart, it would be a terrible thing to deny him now, when Harry adored him.

It might not work out, but for Severus’ sake, he had to try.

Hesitantly, he cupped Severus’ jaw and traced a shaking thumb over the man’s cheek. It wasn’t wet—yet—but at this rate, it would be soon. Merlin, the one time he had seen Severus cry had almost torn the soul from him. Harry shuddered. That night in the shack would be branded forever in his memory as the worst moment of his life, even capping watching people he thought were his friends turning into monsters. It had been the night he lost hope, though he didn’t understand until much later how much Severus’ loss had cost him.

Harry’s eyes stung too. Gods, he didn’t think he’d survive if he lost Severus now, when everyone else had turned on him too.

His voice came out small and afraid. “You … you won’t leave me, Severus? I have … there’s no one left but you.”

Severus turned his face into Harry’s hand and kissed his palm. “I promised you I would take you to San Francisco. I meant it. I ….” He sighed into Harry’s palm and leaned into the touch. “No one has ever held me like this. I would be a fool to leave you. This … this softness, this peace … it is something I have longed for my entire life.”

Harry gave him a shaky smile, his heart thundering and warming at once. Severus’ words curled around him like a blanket and gave him strength to face his terror. With a shuddering breath, Harry slipped his fingers into Severus’ hair and held him, gently drawing him nearer. For a moment, he simply looked at Severus, entranced by the emotion in his eyes.

Gods. The man was beautiful. Harry wanted to spend his life at his side, if Severus would let him close enough.

He hid a secret smile. It was _definitely_ too early to say that.

But if Severus needed to hear the truth about Harry’s heart, well, Harry could do it. For him. Maybe it would make him smile.

Gods, Harry hoped it didn’t make him run.

Shaking all over and cold from head to toe, Harry forced his voice to work despite the breaks and stuttering he couldn’t control. Severus had never heard the words, but Harry had never said them either.

“S-Severus, I … if you ….” He swallowed hard. “If you really … need the t-truth … I … for a long time, I … gods, I’m so scared.”

Severus kissed the palm still shaking against his face. “If you are truly too frightened to speak, I will wait. I do not wish to force you.”

But the not-quite-hidden sorrow and longing in the man’s dark eyes gave Harry the determination he needed. He was a bloody Gryffindor, damn it. Why was he acting like a scared little boy?

With steel strengthening his nerves, Harry met Severus’ eyes and finally said the words he’d held in all his life.

“Severus, I … I l-love you.”

Harry closed his eyes and drew into himself, waiting for the man to rant or rave or tell him he wasn’t good enough. Instead, Severus breath hitched and something hot ran over Harry’s fingers—tears? No! He was crying?

“Oh, gods.” Severus’ voice broke too. “Harry … oh.”

Harry dared a peek and gasped. Tears were streaking down the older man’s cheeks and Severus had just brought a hand up to cover his eyes.

Panic blindsided Harry. “Oh, oh Merlin. Severus, it’s okay. You don’t have to—I’m not expecting anything in return. I … oh gods, please don’t cry. I don’t … I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Severus nuzzled his face into Harry’s hand and moved close, closer, until he lay beside Harry and held him in gentle arms.

“Hurt me?” Severus gave a soft, emotion-rich laugh. His voice quavered. “You just gave me the single most beautiful gift I have ever received, and you are worried that you have hurt me by it?” He couldn’t stop a little shuddering gasp and a fresh wave of tears. “I am … not hurt. Simply overwhelmed and … and I … I do not even know, but I have waited to hear those words so long. I c-can’t.”

He buried his face in Harry’s neck, and the younger man finally understood. Severus wasn’t rejecting him or afraid of his declaration—the man was so happy, he couldn’t control his emotions.

Severus mightn’t be in the same place Harry was, not yet, but he felt _something_. That was certain by the way he trembled and struggled to control his tears.

Harry whispered, breath mingling as he nuzzled close. “I … I understand if you still want to wait, but _Merlin_ , I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

Severus’ breath caught, and a tentative smile lit his eyes. “I … I believe after that, you have earned the right.”

Harry blinked. “Earned it? Oh no. I don’t want it to be an obligation. I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Severus cringed. “Gods. I am … not good with … with expressing such things, Harry, but I was asking you to kiss me.” He flushed to his ears. “Only be gentle. It has been … twenty-three years, and the first time was a dreadful mistake.”

Harry’s eyes softened. “Yes, I know about that fiasco with Malfoy.” At Severus’ heated flush and grimace, Harry nuzzled his cheek and whispered against his skin. “Ssh. It doesn’t taint you. You trusted him and he broke you to pieces for it. That isn’t your fault.”

Severus let out a shaky breath and relaxed against Harry. “You do not judge me for it?”

“Of course not, Severus. Do you judge me for Ginny? For thinking I was in love with her when I couldn’t get you out of my mind?”

Severus gave him a soft, shy smile. “Judge you? I am … it feels so … I cannot begin to describe it, but judging you is the furthest thing from my mind at the moment.”

Harry smiled. “A good feeling?”

“Y-yes. So … so very soft. I … I am shaking all over and I do not understand why.”

Harry kissed the tip of Severus’ nose and smiled at the way he stilled in Harry’s arms and his hands found their way to the younger man’s waist.

“It’s okay,” Harry whispered. “I’m shaking too.”

Severus tilted his face towards Harry a fraction and closed his eyes. “Please.”

Harry did not need Legilimency to understand what Severus wanted. With a sigh and a quiver of deep emotion, Harry slowly moved forwards and touched Severus’ lips with his own.

  


* * *

  


Shockwaves rocked Severus at the feel of Harry’s kiss. It was a light, soft thing, barely there, but Severus felt it down to his core. A quivering breath rushed between them—Severus wasn’t sure from whom—and he shivered at the sensation. Dear Merlin. If a little peck left him a melting, trembling mess inside, what would a real kiss do to him?

A fire burned inside his belly, and Severus realised he wanted to find out. Desperately.

Harry pulled back and searched Severus’ eyes. He traced his thumb across Severus’ cheek, eyes wide and full of worry and hope. Gods, those eyes were so beautiful. Severus would drown in them if he stared long enough.

Soft breath whispered across his lips, making his breath hitch, and Severus did not immediately register that Harry had spoken in the intensity of his sensation.

“Good?”

Severus let slip a little pant and slid his hand into Harry’s hair. He wanted to know what Harry’s kiss felt like, and not just this tentative shy thing. He wanted _more_ , and Merlin be damned if he wasn’t brave enough to take it.

With a fiercely whispered, “Hell yes,” he crushed their mouths together and kissed Harry hard. Harry gasped and froze against him, then melted into the kiss with a moan.

 _‘Yes. Gods yes.’_ Severus clutched at Harry’s hair and moved his lips in tandem with Harry’s. He wasn’t experienced with this at all, but Harry’s lips felt soft and smooth, and each brush sent shocks of lightning through Severus’ veins and pooled hot water in his belly. His heart felt as though it might beat out of his chest and he could hardly breathe for the intensity—and the fact that his nose was mashed against Harry’s cheek—but dear gods, he wanted more.

Harry’s lips parted, and wet heat tentatively swept across the seam of Severus’ lips. Severus couldn’t suppress a quivering moan and he opened to Harry, trembling emotion and fiery need filling him at once. He pressed closer to Harry, needing more contact along his body, and gasped at the feel of a very interested male hot on his hip. Harry stilled, obviously fearful he had shown too much, but Severus just pressed closer and traced his tongue along the underside of Harry’s own.

Harry broke away with a gasp. “Oh shite. Sev’rus, too much. Won’t be able to stop. Feels too good.” He was panting and quivering against him, and Severus found himself in a similar state.

“Merlin,” Severus breathed against Harry’s forehead. “Dear _Merlin_. I … I had no idea it could be so ….”

“Intense? Neither did I.” Harry sucked in a deep breath and tucked his head into the crook of Severus’ neck. “ _Gods_ , Severus. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been waiting for a kiss like that my entire life.”

Severus smiled into Harry’s messy hair. “So have I.” He nuzzled Harry’s curls and sighed, content. “I … I hope, when you see what is truly behind my masks, that you wish to stay with me, love.”

Harry squeezed him so tight, Severus thought he might have cracked a rib. “Never leave you again. I can’t lose you again. Can’t give you up. Thought I would die the first time I lost you.”

Tears blurred his vision and Severus blinked them back. “I’m sorry, Harry. I had no idea you felt so strongly about me.”

Harry gave a little huff of laughter. “Neither did I.” He leaned back and gave Severus a look full of hope and fear at once. “But you know now, right? You won’t … won’t l-leave me again?”

Severus kissed him softly, thrilling in a rush of sweet, tender warmth. “Had I known you cared about me like this, Harry, I would not have left you at all.”

Harry let slip a little whimper of emotion and tears raced down his cheeks, but he was smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, stay by my side, Sev. I love you so much.”

Severus closed his eyes and breathed those words deep, letting the power of them wash over him and cleanse his spirit of darkness and pain. Harry’s love was absolution, it was freedom and hope, and Merlin, he looked forward to sharing it with him.”

“I am … still learning, and I do not wish to speak so soon, but ….” Severus pressed their foreheads together. “I do not think it will be long, pet.”

Harry’s lip quivered in spite of his bright smile and hopeful eyes, and another rush of tears ran down his cheeks. “Really? Oh, Severus.” He wrapped Severus tight and sighed against the older man’s throat. “Then … it was worth it.”

“Hmm? What was, love?”

“This, being hurt and cast aside.” He nuzzled closer. “If it brought you back to me, I’d go through it all again. Having you is worth all the pain.”

Severus held Harry close, wanting to shelter him from all the hatred of their bigotry-torn homeland. Worth it … until today, Severus had never been worth much to anyone. Not even his own mother had been brave enough to save him, but Harry had just told him he would endure the loss of everyone he had ever known and pain that had nearly killed him, just for Severus’ love. Of course, Severus had no intention of ever letting Harry suffer like that again, but knowing Harry would endure for him if he had to was a beautiful, precious feeling.

Severus cuddled him close, being careful with Harry’s still-injured spine. He sheltered his smaller partner and vowed to himself that, from now on, no matter what happened, he would stay at Harry’s side and protect him from the world. Harry was _his_ now, and Severus guarded what was his with the ferocity of a dragon.

No one would ever hurt his Harry again, not if he had anything to say about it.

  


* * *

  


For the longest time, Harry lay there, warm in Severus’ arms, just breathing together. Being safe in his embrace was the most wonderful feeling, so soft and gentle and reassuring after a world of pain.

Without warning, grief slammed into him like a freight train. Severus was beautiful, and the love they were sharing now was the purest, most sanctifying thing Harry had ever felt in his life. How could his so-called friends turn on him for something like this? How could they have rejected him and beat him, Merlin, nearly _murder_ him because of the sweet, gentle love he felt for the man in his arms? Just because Severus was the same gender—did that make their love any less than that of a heterosexual couple?

No. Maybe Harry hadn’t known much of love—indeed, if his friends and family could turn on him for the way he was born, he hadn’t known it at all—but he had seen what his former friends had shared, and nothing came close to this. Ron and Hermione bickered all the time. Seamus tomcatted around with anything in a skirt. Bill and Fleur seemed drawn together more by physical attraction than by true devotion, though she had at least stood by him after Greyback mauled Bill’s face.

Even Molly and Arthur had their issues. Harry thought maybe they stayed together more because it was easier than otherwise. Well, they _did_ care for each other, but not like _this_. Not so deeply that their love branded their very souls. Not so much they would sacrifice life and limb to keep each other from pain, like Severus had done for Harry. Like Harry would do for Severus in a heartbeat, though he prayed it never became necessary.

Severus mightn’t recover if he fell for Harry and then lost him. Harry knew he wouldn’t if Severus died again. The first time had ripped him apart, and then he hadn’t known what it felt like to kiss him, to hold him and share in his life.

No. If Severus went, Harry wanted to go with him. To that end, he wondered if there was a way to ensure he did, some kind of bond that made it so wherever Severus’ soul went, Harry’s followed. He never wanted to be apart from Severus again.

Harry sniffled and buried his face into Severus’ chest. Gods, why couldn’t they see it? Why couldn’t they see how _beautiful_ it was to love someone like this, regardless of gender?

And even if they couldn’t, even if they didn’t understand, how could they have shattered Harry to pieces just because he dared to love someone they didn’t approve of? For Merlin’s sake, if not for Severus, Harry would have _died_ because of their hatred! He would have died alone and broken to bits in his bed, and not a soul would have cared.

A cry tore itself from his throat. Harry held onto Severus for dear life as a storm of grief and agony washed over him. He was lost in a cataclysm of pain, regret and loss for family and friends he would never see again, bitter, choking rage at the fact that they would cast him aside for something so senseless, and cold terror at the knowledge that he would have to leave his entire life behind and start somewhere new, where he knew nothing and no one. He would have to leave everything he had ever known behind and build his life again from the bottom up.

A soothing whisper brushed against his temple. “I am here, Harry. I am with you.”

Harry choked back a sob, his chest tearing with grief. “I … I thought they loved me.”

Severus’ dark eyes filled with terrible pain. “I understand, pet. Too well.”

“I know.” He pressed his face into Severus’ throat. “The article about your death—it was so hard to get the Prophet to even listen to me. They were so focused on your sexuality they forgot all the brave, terrible, and _wonderful_ things you did just so we would have a future. And now, they’ve done the same to me.” He clung to Severus like a small child and wept in his arms. “I _died_ to save them. _You_ died to save them—at least in essence—and they just … they hate us anyway.”

Severus gave him a sorrowful nod and stroked through Harry’s mop, petting his hair with gentle fingers and soothing the pain crushing his heart.

A gentle kiss fell upon Harry’s cheek. “I am sorry, love. If I could heal it ….”

Harry kissed him softly. “You have no idea how much pain you’re healing just by being here, by being alive. Just by holding me, you’re healing me.” His face contorted in grief. “But losing everyone at once—it … I can hardly stand the pain. Just swear you won’t leave me alone. Even if you can’t love me, please, don’t leave me. Just … stay close, so I’m not entirely alone forever.”

Severus’ throat bobbed, and Harry’s eyes flickered to the pinkish scars across his Adam’s apple and pale skin. Would Severus let Harry kiss them? Gods, he wanted to. In the midst of so much anguish, he wanted to lose himself in Severus and forget everything but him.

“I promise.” Severus kissed Harry’s forehead and brushed away his tears. “I will not leave you. Even if this … connection between us does not work in the end, I will stay close and protect you always.” He moved close and laid their foreheads together. “I think we will be good together, though. I have never felt anything so pure, Harry. So beautiful. I would be mad to cast you aside when you have brought more joy into my life in ten minutes than I have ever known in my entire life.”

Harry gave a shaky little cry and brought Severus into a tearful, loving kiss. He held his hero’s face, cradling him in trembling hands, and tried to put all the emotions he had hidden over the past year into the touch. Love overwhelmed him, the sharp-soft zing of pleasure racing all the way down to his toes, the deep, warm tingles in his chest. He could hardly breathe, his chest was so full of tender emotion for this lovely, lonely man, his only anchor in the storm, his only remaining companion.

Severus pulled back, panting, and clutched Harry’s face. “Stay,” he breathed. “Stay with me. I have lost everyone else too.”

Harry gave him a tearful smile. “I’ve wanted that for a year.” He nuzzled into Severus’ scars and laid a kiss on each one. Severus gasped and arched into him.

“Oh, oh gods.”

Harry grinned and murmured against him, “Sensitive here?”

“Oh, Merlin _yes_.”

Harry brushed his lips along the worst of Severus’ scars, drawing a quiet moan from the older man. “Harry, please. I … we should get to know each other better before we … oh, I … feels good but ….”

Harry moved back and kissed Severus’ cheek. “Okay. I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to push you.”

Severus took a moment to gather his wits. “No. You did not push me. It felt … dear gods, I have never felt anything like that.”

Harry smiled and traced a hand through Severus’ hair. “It’s different when you care about your partner, isn’t it?”

Severus nodded and smiled back. “Much.” He sat and ran a hand down Harry’s side. “Perhaps we can try talking for a while, love? About our lives? I would like to know much about you, and I know you do not know much about me beyond what I let you see.”

“What I do know is beautiful.” Harry took Severus’ hand. “That sounds lovely. Tell me what you’ve been doing in the medical field, angel.”

A blush crept up the older man’s cheeks. “Angel?”

“You’ve always been my guardian angel. And you even fly!”

Severus chuckled and ran a hand through Harry’s hair. “It does fit then, I suppose.”

“Plus, you look like some kind of dark avenging angel in those robes you used to wear. It was sexy as hell even back then.”

Severus’ eyes widened. “You thought ….”

Harry laughed. “I didn’t really understand why then, but I always liked watching you swoop about.”

Severus flushed. “But you hated me!” 

“Well, haven’t you been attracted to someone you didn’t much like before?”

Severus’ expression darkened. “Yes, to my great misfortune.”

“Malfoy.”

“Mm-hmm. He was rather decorative. After that debacle, I am afraid I never quite looked at him the same way, however. With him, beauty truly is only skin deep.”

Harry nodded. “His son too.”

Severus’ expression was pained. “Draco … is not beyond help, Harry. Much of what he presented to you—he was only trying to live up to his father’s expectations.” He shook his head. “I hope he has since seen the error of his ways, but I do not know. Other than the Prophet, I have heard nothing of what is happening in Britain, and you know one must read between the lines of that monstrosity to obtain a grain of truth.”

Harry sighed. “I suppose he _did_ save my life. But he’s also a pureblood, Severus. He’ll hate us just because we’re gay.”

Severus frowned. “He never seemed to hate me.”

“Really? Well, maybe he’s _not_ beyond hope after all.” Harry kissed Severus’ knuckles. “I’d rather hear about you, though. Will you tell me about your life, angel? All the dreams you had to keep secret for so long, and how you’re making them real now?”

Severus gave Harry a soft smile. “I would love to.”


	7. Unexpected Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : Brief slash fantasies. Lots of homophobia. Ron bashing. He's a complete asshole in this fic, fair warning. Sorry, Ron lovers._
> 
> _Summary : Severus and Harry talk. Sev runs to get groceries and does some surveillance. Upon his return, they realize they have a new friend waiting. Then some old friends show up and chaos ensues._
> 
> _***AN: I'm feeling bad again so fics are coming slower. I'm still working on them.***_
> 
> * * *

##  **Chapter 7**

* * *

_Unexpected Reunions_

Once Harry’s emotional tempest had calmed a bit, Severus levitated him down the stairs and onto the sofa so they could talk while Severus prepared breakfast.

The house Harry had chosen as his refuge could hardly be called that, having hardly more than three rooms to its name. A rustic loft bedroom with only three walls overlooked the lower floor of the home, which boasted only a small kitchen and smaller dining area, a cosy living room, and a tiny loo. The living room held little beyond a bookshelf full of a hodgepodge collection of texts, a small telly, a corner fireplace, and a worn sofa covered in a patchwork quilt. Well, there was a rather nice coffee table and some antique lamps, and a painting of the Hogwarts grounds hung on the wall between the living room and kitchen, but beyond that, there was little else.

After settling Harry under the quilt, Severus perused Harry’s book titles, amused to find a range of everything from children’s books to advanced treatises on warding and defence to Muggle cookbooks. He even had a decent collection of Muggle mystery novels stashed here and there. Sherlock Holmes seemed to be a favourite.

“Holmes, Harry? I had imagined you would have found fantasy a more interesting genre.”

Harry flushed. “Reminded me of you.”

Severus’ chest ached. “Oh. I am sorry, Harry, that I left you wanting.”

“S’all right. I have you here now. That’s all that matters.”

Severus kissed Harry upon the forehead and made his way into the kitchen, giving the small dining table with its two chairs a bemused look. Only two? Why such a small space? The Harry of today would no longer have occasion to host large groups of Gryffindors—and Merlin, if that thought didn’t give Severus a pang—but he had once, and this appeared to be a well-established home. Why had he not chosen something larger?

Severus poked his head into the Muggle refrigerator and closed it with a frown. “Harry, there is no food here. Were you living on takeout?”

Harry sighed. “Wasn’t living here at all.”

Severus scanned the pantry, hoping to find something edible, but it was as bare as the refrigerator.

“Well, this won’t do.”

“It’s okay, Severus. I’ll be okay for a bit. Used to starvation, you know.”

Severus shook his head vigorously and returned to the living room. “Damned if I’m letting you go hungry another day. It was difficult enough to know you were starving as a child and being forced not to intervene.” His tone darkened with suppressed anger. “One more cruelty I will never forgive the old man for.”

Harry sighed. “Should’ve realised Dumbledore knew how bad it was. Everything for the greater good, even down to his own life and ours.” He shook his head. “To this day, I don’t know if he was a hero or a bloody sociopath.”

Severus snorted. “Both, most likely.” He conjured a chair facing the sofa and leaned on his knees. “Harry, what are we to do about the … lack of food here? You will not be well enough for an international apparition for at least two more days. I cannot let you go hungry so long.” He frowned. “And while I am thinking of it, where in Merlin’s name are we? If this is not your proper home, what is it?”

“My flat,” Harry said with a wry laugh. “Well, it’s like a flat, I guess. It’s small enough.”

“Yes, but then why is there no food and why were you not living in it?”

“Was living with Ginny, wasn’t I?” Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling. “This was the place I bought for myself as soon as the battle was over. It’s outside of Bath, far outside. There’s nothing around us for miles except trees. I liked it like that, the silence and the privacy. That’s why I came back here—no one knows where it is.” He frowned. “Come to think of it, how did _you_ know where it was?”

“Your apparition trail.”

Harry blanched. “It … leaves a trail?”

“It does,” Severus said slowly, “if you are skilled enough to track it. Most witches and wizards are not.”

Harry let out a sigh. “Then I should be safe here for a while.”

“Your … friends do not know where you live? And what if the public finds you?”

“Former friends, and no they don’t. As for the rest, I have this place warded so tightly, a fly couldn’t get inside without being added as an exception.” He frowned. “I … I guess I should take them off the wards.”

“As soon as you are able, but ….” Severus frowned. “If this home is warded so well, how is it that I am sitting in your living room without having to lift a finger?”

Harry flushed again. “Well, as it so happens, you’ve always been an exception to the wards here.”

Severus’ heart skipped. “I … I have? Why would you make an exception for a dead man?”

Harry hesitated, his eyes on his hands, which he had twisted into the quilt. “I came back for you. That night, after the battle ended and I’d done my bit, I came back for you, but you were gone. My first thought was that they’d brought you back to the castle, but you weren’t there either. Then I was afraid the Death Eaters had found your body and … and ….” He buried his face in a shaking hand. “Gods.”

Severus knelt beside Harry and gently pried his hand loose. “Merlin, Harry. I am sorry. I … I never imagined, after all I had done to hurt you, that—”

Harry’s eyes sparked. “That what? That I would miss you? Mourn for you?” He snarled. “Bloody hell, Severus. I spent two weeks after the battle in tears. Barely ate, barely slept for months. Kept a photo of you under my pillow and would just … talk to you, tell you all the things I never got to tell you in life. And do you know what? I even made your photo cry, because I begged it, begged the fates, begged everything to send you back to me so I could just bloody tell you I was sorry I hadn’t been able to save you.”

Harry gave a bitter laugh. “I think that was the first night I really accepted you were dead and never coming back. At the time, I thought, the real Severus Snape never would have wept over me. And when morning came and you didn’t come back, when this flat was just as empty as it had been when I bought it … well, that was the day I told Ginny I’d marry her.” He gave a half-laugh, half-sob. “Thought there was nothing left for me, no real reason to put it off any longer. You were g-gone.”

Sickened by the knowledge that he had caused his young lover so much grief, Severus took Harry’s hand and pressed it to his chest, so the young man could feel his heartbeat. “I am here now. And I swear, if I had realised that it was _I_ who had put that grief in your eyes, that you were in such deep mourning for _me_ , I would have come back for you much sooner. Or at least let you know I am alive.”

“The … grief? How did you know I was grieving?” Harry frowned. “The Prophet. Was it so obvious?”

“Probably not to those who have never had to live a lie. To me, your grief was written in every line of your body. I had thought … there was another man you longed for. I never would have dreamed you could … love me, until this morning.”

Harry traced his fingertips over Severus’ chest. “You’re forgiven. I … just don’t do it again. Don’t leave me broken in half with you across the globe and me without a clue you’re still breathing. I can endure without your love if I must, but not without _you_.”

Severus pressed close and kissed Harry gently. “Pet, I swear to you I will not leave you again.”

Harry gave him a small, sad smile. “I don’t think I could survive losing you twice. Not sure I’d want to.”

“Ssh.” Severus kissed Harry’s hands and held them close to his heart. “Do not speak like that. I know you are in pain, but soon, I hope this will only be a bad memory.”

“Not bad. Not this part. You could never be bad to me.”

“I was, for many years.”

“It’s in the past, love. Water under the bridge. I’m just so glad you’re alive after all, so relieved that I … I c-can’t ….” Tears leaked down Harry’s temples, and Severus kissed them away.

“Ssh. Pet, it is not good to have you so worked up after such dire injuries. Try to calm yourself.”

“O-okay. It’s just … I’m devastated and happy and scared all at once and it’s a bit much to handle.”

“I know.” Severus stroked Harry’s hair, watching as his touch soothed his lover’s wild emotions. “There now. Is that better?”

“Yeah. Helps a lot.”

“Good.” Severus kissed Harry’s forehead. “Now, lie back and rest, and I shall think of what to do for breakfast. Is there a grocery near here?”

“Um, if by near you mean ten miles. Nearest one is in the city proper, and it’s Muggle.”

“So I would need to carry the groceries at least partway, and that is too far to walk. Hmm.” He turned to the fireplace. “Are you on the floo network?”

“Um … yes, but it’s one-way. We can go out, but no one can come in.”

“That will do. I will go under a glamour to retrieve our groceries from Bathsheba.”

“ _Bathsheba_? Isn’t that in Egypt or something?”

Severus chuckled. “She was a Biblical figure, not a city. At least, I do not think there is a city named for her. But she _was_ Egyptian, or so I believe. For our purposes, Bathsheba is simply the wizarding portion of Bath. Flooing from here will help me find my way back through apparition. I’m assuming I am not warded against apparating?”

“Not you. Everyone else is. Well, except for me.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Severus stood and brushed a kiss over Harry’s temple. “Are you in need of anything before I go?”

“Ah, perhaps some water.”

“Of course.” Severus conjured a glass and filled it with cold water for Harry. “Now, rest easy and I will return with supplies to see us through.”

Harry reached for Severus and brought him into a kiss. “I love you. Come back to me. Please.”

Severus hated to see the fear in Harry’s eyes, fear he had put there by abandoning him so long ago. If only he had known.

“I promise, pet. I _will_ be back soon.”

Harry looked at him and let out a heavy sigh. “Okay. I trust you, but please be careful.”

“Mm, yes. I will. I have someone to come home to now.”

Harry’s smile was lovely. “Yeah. Yeah, you do, angel.”

After one last kiss, Severus prepared his glamours and the floo, called out ‘Batty’s Brews,’ and vanished into the flames.

  


* * *

  


As soon as Severus emerged in Bath—in the guise of a younger, blonder man—he found himself falling into old patterns. San Francisco was a relatively safe place for a gay male wizard, but the same could not be said of Britain. If even the Chosen One hadn’t been spared their wrath, a supposedly-dead spy no one had liked before he’d been outed surely wouldn’t survive long. Severus kept the expression on his face bland and unassuming—a non-threatening look that would not draw attention—and pretended he had come to the one apothecary he remembered in this area for a purpose.

“Good morning, sir,” called the shopkeeper, an older woman with frizzy grey hair, giant spectacles, and tiny eyes. “Can I help you today?”

Severus shook his head. “I know what I am looking for, thank you.”

“All right. Just call if you need help finding it.”

Severus nodded and perused the nearest shelf. Of course, he hadn’t any real purpose in the apothecary, but perhaps buying some phoenix tears would help heal Harry’s spine. It really was a bit beyond Severus’ skill, but he remembered Poppy as being one of those who had looked at Severus with thinly-disguised hatred, and he had no desire of exposing Harry’s already-broken heart to her ire. And St. Mungo’s was a disaster waiting to happen. No, Severus would simply have to make do until he could get Harry to San Francisco and a proper healer. But a phial of phoenix tears surely couldn’t hurt.

Severus scanned the shelves until he found the small, silvery phials he was looking for and winced a bit at the price. Well, they _were_ somewhat rare, but Merlin. Fifty galleons for a cure that may or may not work was a bit much. Still, it was for Harry.

Severus sighed and picked one up, though not without a grumble or two. “Where’s that bloody flaming chicken when you need him?”

A sharp pang of grief blindsided him and Severus’ hand trembled on the phial. As much as he hated the old man for the unforgivable things he had done—and not just to Severus himself— _Merlin_ , he still missed him. His pet chicken too. Where had Fawkes wandered to, now that his human had gone beyond?

With a shake of his head and a reminder that he needed to get back before Harry started panicking, Severus turned to go to the counter, but paused as his eye caught something red and yellow beside the phoenix tears.

“Phoenix pinions,” Severus muttered to himself.

The shopkeeper looked up and gave him a hopeful grin—and no wonder when the damn things sold at three-hundred galleons a phial. “Yes, those do wonders for maternity potions, you know. Help pregnant mums hold the baby and give the child powerful magic. They’re known for enhancing and even creating life.”

“Maternity potions ….” An idea had begun to form in Severus’ head, though he hadn’t all the details yet. “Hmm.”

“Yes, are you looking for your wife?”

Severus barely resisted a fierce scowl. “I’m afraid there is no Missus Meredith at this time, but I will keep it in mind for the future.”

_‘The future … Harry ….’_

Severus smiled. They would have a bright one together, he was sure of it.

Well, only if he got on with his business. Else, Harry might panic himself into an early grave.

With a little shake, Severus moved past the phoenix pinions, still unsure why they had struck his fancy so, and set the tears on the counter. “I will take those, madam, if you are able to accept a Gringotts card?”

He Summoned his billfold and, while he opened it, carefully hid his identification card from view. American Muggles liked one to have them available at all times, but Severus’ photo would be a dead giveaway if the shopkeeper saw it. His school ID card, too, though thankfully that one wasn’t on display except when he wore it at the university.

“Hmm.” The old lady watched with a frown as Severus removed his debit card and held it out. “Yes, we can take it, but we sure don’t see many here these days.” She sounded as if she was glad of it. Damn backwards bigots. “It doesn’t feel … _real_ , you know?” She scanned the card across her counter and jumped at the sound of the register’s bell.

Severus couldn’t hold back his scowl this time. “I’m sure the money that just landed in your till is quite real.”

She blushed and handed Severus a bag for his phoenix tears. “Y-yes, I’m sure. Thank you for your business, sir.”

He gave him a curt nod and plucked his card from the shopkeeper’s hand. A moment later, he had his belongings tucked among his clothing and was on his way to the wizarding grocer. As he walked, he kept his ears open for gossip about Harry and his eyes open for trouble, but heard nothing until he had finished shopping and was waiting in the checkout queue.

Two youngish witches—one blonde, one brunette, and each with young children in tow—were chatting with each other as they waited for their turn. Severus listened with half an ear until the conversation turned to the latest scandalous report by the Prophet.

“And they lived in the same dorm for years,” the blonde one was saying. “Can you imagine?” She clucked her tongue and bounced a towheaded baby on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have thought the Boy-Who-Lived capable of it.”

Severus froze. Capable of _what_ exactly?

The brunette woman shook her head as if in sympathy. “It must have been terrifying to learn your best friend, well, wanted _more_ , when they’re both men.”

Severus suppressed a growl by virtue of gnashing his teeth. Bloody idiots, believing everything society fed them.

He forced an innocently curious expression onto his face and tapped the shoulder of the blonde, who was nearest him. “Excuse me, Madam. I couldn’t help overhearing. Were you speaking of Harry Potter just now?”

The woman nodded, her expression twisting in outrage. “He had us all fooled, that boy. To think, what he could have done to his poor dormmates!”

Severus had a terrible feeling he knew what she meant, but he would get neither confirmation nor details by crying out in righteous wrath, as much as he wanted to scold these ignoramuses. He pretended to be surprised and worried instead.

“His dormmates. One of them filed a complaint against him then?”

The brunette frowned. “Well, not that I saw. The Prophet only said that Ron Weasley had discovered Potter had been in love with him all those years and he had only gotten engaged to his sister because he wanted to seduce Ron.”

Severus gaped. “Excuse me, but _what_? How does that even follow? If he had honestly wanted Ronald and not the Weasley girl, would it not have been easier to seduce Ronald himself while they were away together all of last year? Why would he go through all the drama of a false engagement only to get closer to a man he was already closer to than most brothers?”

Both women looked confused.

“N-now that you put it like that,” said the blonde, “it does sound rather farfetched.”

“But it was in the Prophet,” her friend argued.

Severus gave a wry chuckle. “All the more reason not to believe it. I have found that, since they let Patil go, there is very little resembling a thread of truth in their articles.”

“But ….” The brunette cocked her head. “How could they publish it if it’s not true? Aren’t there laws?”

Severus tamped down the urge to call her a dunderhead and ask her if she had anything but air between her ears. As that would certainly draw unwanted attention to his persona, he simply shook his head and answered in a far more patient tone than he felt the women deserved.

“Of course, but since when has that mattered to the Prophet? Don’t you recall the Rita Skeeter scandal this past April? They’re _still_ printing retractions of her lies every week, and it will probably take them the better part of a year to get through them all.”

The brunette blushed. “I … I had forgotten. Merlin. You think it’s not true then?”

“I do indeed. If Mister Potter lived with the boy for seven years and never once made a pass at him, I think it is safe to say he regards Ronald like a brother and not a mate. Hogwarts has communal showers, you know. If the boy had wanted more, there was plenty of opportunity to try for it before now, and without the trappings of a public scandal and false marriage.”

The blonde scowled. “You make a good point.”

Severus tipped his head. “It helps if you don’t believe everything you read.”

The brunette gave him a wry smile. “Fair enough—oh, _Thomas Jackson Fairfax_! Get down from there this _instant_!”

The woman rushed to rescue her child from the top of a stack of cereal boxes and, when she returned, the women’s conversation moved on to other things. Severus, for his part, was torn between wanting to strangle Ronald Weasley with his own intestines and feeling a spark of hope that not _everyone_ in the wizarding world was beyond reason. Those two women had listened to him, at least.

Then again, as he paid for his groceries and watched the clerk frown at his debit card, he scowled. The problem wasn’t your everyday wizard who bought everything the Prophet sold them; it was the ones selling it in the first place. The bigwigs controlling the flow of money, the purebloods pulling the strings of everything and everyone in Britain. If only Severus knew how to remove them from power—or make them obsolete—then Britain might yet be salvageable, for the younger crowd at least.

But no. Not again. Someone else could swoop in and save the day this time. Severus had done his bit for wizarding kind, and so had Harry. Whatever happened to Britain, the two lovers had earned their peace.

Severus shrank the groceries down to one bag and cast a featherweight charm. He smiled as he focused on Harry and apparated into the flat. They _had_ earned their right to a peaceful future, and Severus couldn’t wait to start living it with Harry at his side.

Peace sounded a lot better when one wasn’t alone.

  


* * *

  


For Harry, every moment until Severus returned was an excruciating test of patience. Several times he had half convinced himself to go after the man, until he remembered that he didn’t know where to go, was too injured to stand, and would likely find himself the victim of another brutal assault if he showed his face in public now.

Merlin, he hoped Severus was all right. If anyone saw through the man’s glamours, if he made one wrong move and revealed his temper—

Harry shook his head, ashamed of his mother-henning. Severus had been a spy for twenty years. If anyone knew how to conceal himself from your everyday, garden-variety idiot, it was Severus.

But even so, Harry worried Severus might run into someone smarter, someone who might not have bought the story that Severus had died that night. They had never found a body, after all. What if someone—someone like one of the Death Eaters the aurors hadn’t yet caught—what if they had dismissed the claims based on the fact that Severus’ body had never been found? What if they were in Bath right now, and Se—

Harry’s wards pinged and Severus apparated in, carrying a dark green paper bag and scowling.

“Severus,” Harry breathed, relief rushing through him, almost painful in its intensity.

Severus gave Harry a sad smile. “I thought you might be worrying yourself into a frenzy. Are you all right?”

“I am now.” Harry blushed and laughed at his own fretting. “I’m sorry. I really do know you can take care of yourself. I just … I can’t shake the fear that I’ll look back one moment and you’ll be gone.”

Severus set the groceries—only one bag?—on the kitchen table and knelt before Harry, one gentle hand sliding into his hair. “It’s all right, love. I only had to retrieve food for us. Ah, and ….” He removed a small phial from his lapel pocket. “This should help with your spinal injuries. At least, I hope it will.”

Harry examined the phial and gave him a sad smile. “Phoenix tears. I wonder where Fawkes is now.”

“I do not know. I worried for him too.”

“D’you think, if I called for him again, he would come?”

Severus’ mouth opened and closed without sound. “He … he came to you before?”

“Mm-hmm. When I was fighting the basilisk. He blinded it and brought me the Sorting Hat. Which sounds like a poor weapon against a ten-metre long venomous snake, but since I pulled the sword of Gryffindor out of it, I suppose all’s well that ends well.” Harry shuddered at the memory. “I would have died then if not for him. Ginny and I both, and Riddle would have used her life to resurrect himself from his horcrux.”

Severus moved back, staring at Harry as if he’d never seen him before.

“What?”

“What do you mean you would have died?”

Harry blinked. “You … you don’t know?”

Severus gave him a wry smile. “Obviously not.”

“Oh. Well, it’s just … I thought Dumbledore had told all the staff.”

Severus’ expression darkened. “Apparently he was even more tight-lipped than I had first thought.”

“Really? Merlin.” Harry frowned. “Why on earth would he need to hide this?”

“Perhaps because of the horcrux involved. He may have feared what would happen if Riddle came across that information in my mind. He certainly never told me of the others, save the one in you.”

Harry shivered. “Merlin. I’m glad it’s gone.”

“So am I, and that you survived it.” Severus kissed him softly. “Stay with me.”

“Mm. Always.” Harry caressed Severus’ face. “Love you so much.”

Severus’ eyes glowed with happiness. “Ah, I feel it. I … I ….”

Harry kissed him lightly. “It’s okay. Tell me when you’re ready, Severus. There’s no rush. I’m happy just so long as you are.”

Severus blinked rapidly and nuzzled Harry’s hair. “I do not deserve you. I … gods.”

“Sev, ssh. It’s all right. I’m here.” Harry leaned up and kissed him lightly. “Tell me what Dumbledore told everyone. I assumed he’d told them the entire thing since the class stopped looking at me like I’d kill them in their sleep.”

“He simply told us that Voldemort had used the basilisk against you and taken Ginny hostage. We assumed he had possessed the snake and cast _Imperius_ on the girl since basilisks are not usually hostile unless one threatens their young.”

“That one was most _definitely_ hostile.”

“Perhaps a thousand years alone drove her mad.”

Harry shivered. “Or Riddle did, when he found her the first time. I always wondered how he managed to survive a search of that place with a blood-thirsty basilisk hanging about.” He closed his eyes against a surge of guilt. “Now I know.”

“Harry, do not blame yourself. You had no choice but to kill her, if she was attacking.”

Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes. “S-sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I find I much prefer your honour and respect for all living things as compared to what I normally see in the human population, whether wizarding or otherwise.”

Harry smiled. “Thanks, love.”

“Mm.” Severus stroked Harry’s cheek. “So tell me then, if Dumbledore did not tell us the entire story, what _did_ happen?”

Harry shuddered. “It was terrifying. Lucius Malfoy passed Ginny this old journal that turned out to be a horcrux. She wrote in it all year and he wrote back, but then he used her … attachment or magic or what have you to force her to open the Chamber. He was bleeding her life force when I came in, and was already half-solid. I thought he was a student until he showed me his name for what it was. Did you know Tom Marvolo Riddle spells out ‘I am Lord Voldemort’ when you rearrange the letters?”

Severus shook his head. “So that is why he chose such a ridiculous name.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah. Anyway, once I realised he was an enemy, I took position over Ginny, but then he called the basilisk and I had to run. I thought I was done for, but then I called out for help and Fawkes showed up. He blinded the basilisk and brought me the sword so I had some kind of chance against it.”

He shivered at the chill of his memories and leaned into Severus’ caressing hands. “But what kind of chance does a twelve-year-old really have against a lethal magical serpent, even blinded? I managed to stab the thing through the roof of her mouth, but when I did ….” He pushed up his sleeve and ran a finger over his scar. “She broke off one of her fangs in my arm.”

Severus froze and sucked in a sharp breath. “You were bitten by a thousand-year-old basilisk, as a child, and _survived_?”

“Wouldn’t have without Fawkes. He cried over my wounds and healed them. Riddle tried to run him off, but as soon as I recovered enough, I grabbed the broken fang and stabbed the journal with it. Since basilisk venom kills horcruxes, Riddle died—again. Seriously, how many times did I need to kill him before it stuck?”

Harry grinned at Severus’ snort. “Anyway, Ginny got her life-force back once he was dead. Then Fawkes made us all grab his tail and carried us up to Dumbledore’s office. I think you know the rest.”

Severus sat back on his heels, his expression awed and hopeful at once. “I … Merlin, Harry. You were so brave … and so bloody foolhardy! Taking on a basilisk and Riddle at once! Dear gods, are you mad?”

Harry snorted. “Probably a bit, considering everything.”

Severus gave a low laugh. “Perhaps we all are.” He took Harry’s hand. “Harry, did you know phoenixes only come at their companions’ call—their masters, if you will, though no one can truly own a phoenix.”

Harry blinked. “But he was Dumbledore’s.”

“Yes, at the time—for us. Phoenixes don’t operate the same way. Time is … fixed for most creatures, humans included—it flows in a straight line forwards or backwards, though we do have a little ability to alter it. For a phoenix, time is … Merlin! How am I to explain it? It is like this: because a phoenix never truly dies and is never truly born, time for them is … all the same thing. A phoenix is aware of all his past and future actions—and his past and future _companions_ —at any given moment.”

Harry paled, his heart pounding at the implications. “Wait, wait. Severus, are you saying that Fawkes …?”

“Is yours. Call him, love.”

Harry blinked back tears. “Oh gods. Oh, I … I … can I really?”

Severus cradled Harry’s face. “Yes, pet. I imagine he is feeling lonely too.”

Harry gave Severus a teary-eyed smile and nodded. “O-okay.” He took a deep breath and spoke in a tentative voice. “Fawkes, are you … can you come to me?”

With a delighted trill and a flash of fire, the phoenix burst into being above Severus’ head. Harry gave a soft cry and reached out a hand, and the phoenix landed on his wrist.

“Oh, Fawkes. You … you really came.” Tears spilled down Harry’s face despite his every attempt to hold them back. “I … I missed you.”

Fawkes gave a happy trill, and a soft-spoken tenor echoed in Harry’s mind. _“I missed you as well, companion.”_

“Fawkes! Merlin, you can talk?”

 _“Yes, but only to my current companion and their mate. No one else will hear me, unless they have the ability of beingspeak.”_

Harry looked to Severus to find an expression of awe and absolute joy on his face. It melted Harry’s shock into soft, bubbly happiness, and he laid a hand on both Severus’ face and Fawkes’ head. “Well then, I guess my family has all come back to me today.” Tears of relief and joy slipped down his cheeks. Harry didn’t try to stop them this time. “Welcome home.”

Severus shed a few tears of his own and laid his head on Harry’s shoulder, silent, but his very breath echoing with emotion words could not possibly express. Harry held them all closer and, for the first time in his life, felt complete.

  


* * *

  


Once the emotion of their reunion had passed, Severus sat on his heels and gave the phial of phoenix tears a wry look. “Well, that was a considerable number of galleons I did not need to spend.”

Fawkes gave a laughing trill. _“Sell them again, friend.”_

“I suppose I _could_.” Severus smirked. “And apparently I need not worry about a supply.”

Fawkes bowed his head. _“You have earned what I can offer. I will gladly help you when you have need of me.”_

Severus smiled. “I am glad you are here. I missed you too, Fawkes.”

The phoenix trilled softly and rubbed his head into Severus’ hand. Severus petted the phoenix under his chin where he liked to be scratched. Fawkes almost purred at the attention, and Harry laughed.

“Hey, he’s supposed to be my familiar, you know. You’re not supposed to steal him away.”

Severus chuckled. “I shan’t. Unless I am in need of potions ingredients.”

Fawkes chirruped and perched on Harry’s shoulder.

“Hmm. Perhaps not then.”

Harry snorted. “Let’s not plan to make my new friend into potions just yet, hmm?”

Severus chuckled. “Of course. I will give you time to be acquainted first.”

Harry burst into laughter. “Merlin, Sev. And you wonder why all of Hogwarts was afraid of you.”

Severus huffed. “An impression I cultivated intentionally. It kept the brats from begging my attention at all hours.” He gave Harry a conspiratorial grin. “They went to Pomona and Minerva instead.”

Harry snorted. “Always have a plan, don’t you?”

“Of course. I am a Slytherin.” Severus chuckled and rubbed Harry’s cheek. “Pet, let us try turning you around and see if Fawkes can do anything for your spine. I am afraid it is beyond my ability to heal.”

Fawkes chirped in dismay and nudged Harry’s shoulder.

“I think that means he wants to help,” said Harry with a pained laugh. He carefully turned on his stomach, with the aid of Severus’ hands and a slight levitation charm. Severus charmed Harry’s shirt off and lowered his trousers, revealing the bent, bruised, and broken mess for what it was. Fawkes let out a shriek of horror and looked at Severus.

 _“Who did this to him, friend?_ ”

Severus’ expression was grim. “Those who called themselves _his_ friends did this. Ronald Weasley. Ernie MacMillan. Terry Boot. Anyone in all four houses with ‘pure’ blood, and even some half-bloods mobbed him and attacked him on the street. I found him near death last night and did what I could, but this is beyond my skill. Is there anything you can do?”

Fawkes’ tears fell even as Severus spoke, healing the broken and bruised skin and aligning bones. Harry cried out and clutched at the sofa cushions, the sound strangled and echoing with anguish. Severus stroked Harry’s hair and cheek, hoping to soothe his pain.

 _“I need no effort to weep for this,”_ Fawkes said after a few tears.

Severus nodded. “Will he heal?”

_“I think he is healed now. I am only trying to ease his pain.”_

Severus swallowed a wave of emotion. “Thank you.”

Harry slid his hand into Severus’ and lay still, his laboured breathing easing bit by bit until the phoenix and several diagnostic charms proclaimed him to be mostly healed. Harry was still a bit sore, but it would pass soon, and he no longer faced a lifetime of pain from a badly healed spine, thank Merlin.

Severus gently eased Harry to sit, resting his own body behind the young man so Harry could relax against him. Harry tilted his head back and kissed Severus’ jaw.

“Oh, this is nice, Severus. Feels good to have you wrapped around me like this.”

Severus shivered, imagining himself wrapped around the young man in other ways. “Ah. I … yes. I enjoy having you in my arms too.”

“Don’t worry, angel. I won’t push you.”

Severus relaxed and laid his head upon Harry’s shoulder. “Does it hurt you to sit?”

“Not anymore. I mean, a little, but it hurts as much to lie down so I don’t think there’s anything actually wrong anymore.” He scowled, faced pinched with the effort of holding back grief. “Besides the fact that it was my supposed friends who hurt me in the first place.”

Severus sighed. “I know, love. I’m sorry.” He kissed Harry’s cheek. “Let me conjure some pillows for you so I can make breakfast. You will need to at least try to eat.”

Harry sighed. “I’m not particularly hungry considering everything but I’ll try for you.”

“Thank you.” Severus kissed the top of his lover’s ear.

Harry gasped and arched back into his touch. “Oh.”

Severus smirked. “Sensitive there?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I will remember that.” He nuzzled Harry’s hair and eased out from behind him with the aid of another levitation spell and several conjured pillows. “There you are, pet. And I had best put everything away. The groceries had charms on to keep them at the proper temperature, but even so, they will not last forever.”

Harry smiled. “Sure, but why did you only buy one bag?”

Severus raised an eyebrow and levitated the rest of the shrunken bags out of that one, then resized them.

“Oh. Wizarding shop. Whoops.”

Severus laughed and sent everything zooming to its proper place with several flicks of his wand. He had even bought a set of flatware and china. “Now that we are properly situated, would you like an omelette perhaps?”

“That sounds good.”

“All right, though I will have to conjure a pan and food is never quite as good when cooked on magical apparatus.”

“I’m not picky, Sev. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Severus gave Harry a warm smile and went to settle breakfast. Harry chattered with Fawkes a bit, then turned his attention towards Severus again.

“Love, tell me what you’re doing in San Francisco. Your work. You seemed really proud of it.”

Severus smiled as he flipped his current omelette and added cheese and diced veg. “Well, I _am_ proud. I am … a liaison of sorts. I am just short of a PhD in Muggle medicine as well as a mediwizardry license—I have plans to finish those soon—and I am using my knowledge of both worlds to bring new techniques to each.”

Harry beamed. “Merlin, Severus! That’s brilliant. But how can you use magical medicine on a Muggle without breaking the statute of secrecy?”

“Well, you cannot treat them with spell, that is true. And magical potions ingredients are called thus because they require the presence of a magical core to work, but magical _processing_ is another beast altogether. Creating potions and salves with purely Muggle ingredients but with the power of a strong wizard and magical processing behind it makes the remedies far more potent than any other homeopathic treatment that exists, and more potent sometimes than even traditional medicine. At least, it has given the most broken of them hope. I am afraid Muggle doctors are not very good at treating chronic disease.”

Harry grinned. “Lovely. I’m proud of you, angel. That really is amazing.”

Severus flushed. “It … it is a simple thing that should have been thought of long ago.”

“But you did it first, and that’s what’s important, love. Despite the fact that you are very much a wizard, you thought of those suffering Muggles and tried to make their lives easier. So what are you doing for the wizarding side then?”

“Ah, I am teaching them Muggle techniques and knowledge. Curses, in particular, do not always respond to magical treatment. _Sectumsempra_ , for example, has a very specific cure that few know. However, if one knows how to stitch a wound closed, one still might save the patient’s life, though they will have a scar.” Severus smiled to himself. “It has already saved many and given others some form of livelihood back. I am thrilled to see how much a simple thing has changed lives.”

Harry sounded entranced. “Really? Tell me a story. Tell me of someone you saved.”

Severus paused, searching his memories. “I believe the one that affected me the most was little Tisbeth McDowell. She was four years old at the time and had the most beautiful head of bright red curls. Her six-year-old brother had stolen their father’s wand and they were playing with it, when he accidentally cursed her with a bone deforming curse. It warped one of her legs and made it shorter than the other, and the little girl could no longer walk when she came into my care. She was in so much pain.”

“Your care?” Harry whistled. “You treated her, love?”

“Of course not. I am not a surgeon. But I did recommend a Squib surgeon to come in and work with the wizards treating her and guide them in choosing techniques. She had to endure two painful surgeries and she has a bit of a scar on her thigh, but because of the coordination of her care between Muggle and wizarding medics, she has since recovered. She _ran_ to me to thank me.” He had to blink hard at the memory.

Harry sighed. “Oh, Severus. That’s wonderful. You really do have such a big heart. I knew it was there.”

Severus flushed deeper and tried to convince himself it was because of the heat of the range. “Your … former friends would be hard pressed to believe their evil, greasy git, line-ender of a potions professor had any heart at all.”

Harry scoffed. “Don’t say that. ‘Line-ender.’ Don’t. It’s as bad as ‘Mudblood.’”

Severus acknowledged his comment with a nod. “My apologies.”

“No need to apologise. Let’s just not say it where it can be avoided. We’re moving on to a new place and a new life, right? Let’s not bring that poison into it.”

Severus smiled. “Yes, I agree.”

“And by the way, none of those things you said about yourself are true. Your hair is the sexiest thing about you. Well, maybe except your eyes. And your voice. And your mouth. Damn it, I’m turning myself on.”

Severus burst into shocked laughter. “You … Merlin, Harry. You really find me so attractive?”

“Gods, yes. Whatever you’ve done in America has done wonders for you, but to be honest, I thought you were attractive before. Well, once I could see past the veil of hatred.” His voice wavered. “And then I thought it was too late. Please don’t leave me again.”

Severus flipped the omelette onto a plate and brought it out to Harry, along with a fork and a fresh cup of tea. “Here you are, love.” He kissed Harry’s temple and whispered, “And I am going nowhere, Mister Potter. From this day on, you belong to me.”

Harry shivered and tilted his head back. “Y-yeah?”

“Oh yes. You are _mine_ now.”

“Yours. Yeah, want to be yours.” Harry was breathless and wide-eyed.

Severus smiled and kissed him lightly. “Then we are in agreement and there is no need for anyone to leave.”

Harry flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn. I … I’m sorry, Severus. I’m being really clingy. Is it too much? Don’t want to scare you away.”

Severus tilted Harry’s chin up and kissed him tenderly. “I find it reassuring, to know that you want me so much. However, I will need to be alone on occasion, when I am working in the lab for example, or when I am teaching.”

Harry smiled. “You’re still teaching? I don’t think you told me that.”

Severus nodded. “I am the biology professor at the University of California. Well, the San Francisco campus, as it were.” He chuckled. “Apparently, you are not alone in your appreciation of my physical attributes. It seems many of the students there think I am attractive. I broke quite a few female hearts when I revealed my inclinations last term.”

Harry winced. “Oh. Are they … did you want …?”

“I want you, and only you.” Severus bussed a kiss against Harry’s temple. “They are _students_ , Harry. I would lose my position and my reputation if I let one of them into my bed—and I have worked hard to build a clean slate. I do not want it smeared.”

He caressed Harry’s cheek. “Besides that, why on earth would I want to leave a faithful, devoted partner who _loves_ me—and more, who knows who I truly am and does not let it turn him away—when the students are only looking for a quick shag against the professor’s desk? No, Harry. I made the mistake of falling in lust once and it destroyed my life. I will never fall for such tactics again.”

Harry gave him a lopsided smile. “Well, what if _I_ want you to shag me against the professor’s desk, _sir_?”

Severus’ breath hitched at a sudden image of Harry bent over and howling, sprawled over half-marked student tests and begging Severus for more.

“Dear gods.” He panted and willed his sudden arousal away. “I-I think that could be arranged. Of course, we would have to enact such fantasies at home, not at school as it is a Muggle university and silencing and warding charms would alarm the students.”

Harry smirked. “We could always put up a Muggle repelling charm.”

Severus shivered. “Home. There are also Squibs in attendance, and such spells would not only fail to divert them, but would also alert them to the fact that their biology professor is not as mundane as he appears.” He took Harry’s hand. “Please, love. My professional life is very important to me. Once we are ready for such a step, I will shag you over the teacher’s desk as many times as you like—but only at home. I cannot put my position at risk like that. I have worked too hard to gain what standing I have here to let it fall to shreds for a few moments of sexual pleasure.”

Harry took him into a gentle, reassuring kiss. “Okay. If it means that much to you, we’ll keep your work life and our love life separate. But … can I hold your hand if I’m with you on campus? Will that get you in trouble?”

Severus smiled. “I believe that will be acceptable.” He kissed Harry’s forehead. “Eat, before it gets cold.” With a brush of Harry’s cheek, he returned to the kitchen and started on an omelette for himself, then remembered their new familiar. “Fawkes, are you hungry?”

The bird perched on his shoulder, watching as Severus worked. _“I am, but I can seek food for myself if you do not have anything for me.”_

Severus nodded. “Hmm. I did not know you would be coming to us so I shopped in preparation for a longer stay. I believe I have some mango on hand, as well as dried poppy and sunflower seeds. There are also the vegetables I am using for our omelettes. Would any of those do?”

_“Any of them would work except the onions, but do be careful with poppy seeds. Too much and I will be far more … happy than usual.”_

Severus snorted. “Yes, yes. I shan’t overdose you. You are flamboyant enough without my help.”

Fawkes gave a tittering sort of trill. _“Then I would appreciate a meal as well. Thank you, friend.”_

Severus scratched under Fawkes’ chin and flipped his omelette.

“Hey, Sev?” Harry paused. “Oh. Is it all right if I call you that?”

Severus chuckled. “ _Everyone_ calls me that now, Harry, even my students. It was the only way I could keep a connection with my former life while working under a new identity.”

“Oh. Then I suppose I’d best start calling you Sev all the time lest they catch on to your real name. What name do you go by now?”

“Sevano Janus Meredith.”

Harry chuckled. “Janus, hmm? That’s a good fit—beginnings, gateways, and a two-faced god. You truly did wear two faces and now you have another one.”

Severus almost dropped his spatula. “Where on earth did you learn that, love? I had thought your Muggle education to be quite … lacking.”

“I spent a lot of time reading in that bookshop of mine. It wasn’t only to get away from the crowd. I wanted to learn the things I missed, and along the way I fell in love with reading. The Roman myths are a favourite of mine.” His voice broke. “I especially liked reading about the … the city founders.”

“Lupin.” Severus sighed. “I am sorry, Harry. If it is any consolation, I do not believe he would have turned on you like everyone else has. He was much too familiar with the pain of ostracism to ever treat someone with such disrespect.”

“He bullied you.”

“No, he stood by and tried to stop his friends from bullying me. They did not listen, and it hurt him. He did not wish to bully me, and if I had not needed to keep up appearances, I would have forgiven him.” Severus sighed and shook his head. “I shall never have the chance now. So many regrets.”

Fawkes trilled a gentle melody in his ear. _“He knows. They all know how much you did for them. Death removes all blinders and lets spirits see with unclouded eyes for the first time.”_

“What about me, Fawkes?” Harry’s voice was small and shaky. “Would my parents disown me because I love a man, and particularly the man they both hurt so much?”

Severus closed his eyes, waiting for the blow to fall.

But Fawkes was gentle. _“Well, Harry, I did say death removes all blinders. That includes prejudice. I believe they will still love you for who you are no matter who your heart inclines you to. Though if they were still living, I … I do not know if I could say the same truthfully.”_

Harry sighed. “Thank you. That was honest and … and I feel a little better. I only wish there weren’t such stupid prejudices in the first place.”

“So do we all, love.” Severus flipped his own omelette onto his plate and joined Harry at the table. “Is that not to your liking?”

Harry blushed and dug into his barely-touched omelette. “Sorry, Sev. I was just more interested in talking to you than I was in eating, but no, it’s good. Not sure why you expected anything less. You’re a genius with potions so of course that would translate into skill with cooking.”

Severus smiled. “I had hoped you would recognise the similarity. I will be right back, though. I must feed our flaming chicken.”

Fawkes gave a little clucking sound, and Harry burst into laughter.

With a soft laugh, Severus placed a warming charm over his own food and returned to the kitchen. He conjured a small bowl and scooped a bit of leftover chopped bell pepper and tomato into it. A sprinkle of poppy seeds and a handful of sunflower seeds completed their familiar’s meal.

“There you are, Fawkes.” Severus conjured a perch as well and set the food in the tray for it. “Will that do?”

Fawkes sniffed the bowl and answered by snatching a piece of tomato. Severus chuckled and joined Harry at the table.

“Feels like a family dinner,” Harry said with a grin. “Thank you for taking care of me, Severus.” He frowned. “Sev.”

“It is all right, Harry. You may call me by my proper name when we are alone. I miss hearing it, honestly.”

“I’m just worried I’ll slip in public.”

“If you do, it is nothing a wandless Obliviate charm won’t fix.”

Harry smirked. “Have you done that a lot then?”

“I was a spy, Harry. It was not to my benefit to have others remember my mistakes.”

“True enough.”

They ate in silence for a few moments, but just as Harry had almost finished, he sat up and went rigid. “Sev! Your wand. Mine is … I’m not in the condition.”

Severus leapt to his feet and jerked out his wand. “What is it?”

“Someone is breaking down the wards.”

“Shite!” He went to glamour his face, but before he could manage it, the door burst open and a panicked Neville Longbottom burst in, leading Luna Lovegood and the Patil twins. He had a giant box of what looked like medical supplies in tow.

“Harry! Where … oh my gods.” Neville swayed and sank back into Luna. “ _Professor_?”

Harry groaned. “Damn it. Looks like our secret is out, Sev.”

Severus held his wand steady and made a soft sound of dismay. “So it appears.”


	8. The Enemy of My Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : more discussion of homophobia. That's pretty much the central theme of this fic, so expect it to pop up a lot. Summary: Harry's friends blast their way into his house in effort to save his life, and the group works to establish an alliance._

##  **Chapter 8**

* * *

_The Enemy of my Enemy_

Harry glared at the intruders as Dean Thomas ran inside, carrying what looked to be a stretcher. He dropped it at the sight of Harry, eyes going wide.

“You … you’re okay, Harry? And bloody hell, _Professor Snape_?”

“Obviously,” Severus said in a cold voice, his wand held in a white-knuckled fist. “Please excuse our lack of … _manners_. We were not expecting to be ambushed.”

Harry’s friends flushed, but he ignored their discomfort and Summoned his wand from the loft, just in case Severus found himself outmatched. He had trained these fighters himself, after all, and knew their capabilities well.

 _Fuck_ , it hurt that he needed to guard against those he once considered his closest friends.

Feeling a bit safer with his wand in hand, Harry snapped out, “What the bloody hell are you lot doing here? And who gave you the right to just barge in like you own the place?”

Fawkes stared at the intruders with a sharp gaze, but did not move from his conjured perch.

“Hello, Professor,” Luna said with a dreamy smile. “I was wondering when the flutterbys would lead you back to Harry.”

Severus frowned. “Flutterbys?”

“Never mind it.” Harry gave her a wary nod, but did not let down his guard. He knew Luna was a lesbian and therefore unlikely to hurt him, but Neville had already betrayed him once. He flicked his wand in his former dorm mate’s direction and glared.

“Are you here to finish me off then? I don’t imagine the Professor will let you hurt me without a fight. Nor my familiar.”

As if in answer, the phoenix perched on Harry’s shoulder and stared the visitors down.

“No, no,” Neville panted. “Gods, I had no idea you’d b—”

Another cold tingle ran up Harry’s spine and he growled. “And just who in the hell is trying to break my wards?”

Neville flushed. “Er, it’s … he’s … um, my boyfriend. He would have just come in with us, but he’s not an exception to the wards like we are, and … well, we didn’t think there would be time t—”

Harry cut off his babbling. “Neville—you? You’re …?”

“Gay, yes. As are Luna and Padma. That’s one reason Padma fought so hard for you, you know. Parvati too. Well, she’s straight, but she fought for you anyway. And for Justin, not that anyone listened.”

Harry reeled. “Oh. _Oh_. You mean … you’re here to help?”

Neville nodded and laid his medical kit down. “Gods, Harry. I … fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? _Sorry_?” Fury and grief contorted Harry’s features—and his heart. “You were _there_ , Nev. You could’ve helped. Why the hell did you just … just _stand there_ and let them …?” He jerked a hand across his eyes. “I almost _died_. Would have done if Severus hadn’t saved me. And you did _nothing_ to help me!”

Padma choked out, “ _Severus_? He lets you …?”

“I think we’ve missed a few things, Pad,” Parvati said, her eyes wide. “Harry, _really_? Professor Snape?”

“Really what?” Harry scowled and shook his head. “Forget it. Just … if you’re really here to help, couldn’t you have sent a bloody message or something? Jesus. I thought you were here to kill me!”

Everyone but Luna—who never seemed to lose that dreamy cool—flushed bright red.

“Er,” Neville rubbed his toe in the floor. “Shite, Harry. I’m sorry. It’s just … we all thought you’d be unconscious and on the verge of death. It took us forever to follow your trail and then, I just didn’t think there would be time for niceties. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d been rescued already and I was afraid you’d die if we wasted even a second.”

Parvati huffed. “Well, if you’d listened to me and Luna, you’d have already known he was okay.”

Neville flushed redder. “Couldn’t take the chance. Sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to terrify you. We just … we were trying to save your life.”

Harry relaxed a bit. “Why didn’t you save me when they were trying to murder me then? I know there were a lot of them but you faced more during the battle. Why?”

Neville winced. “I … I panicked. I couldn’t believe our friends would—it was … I thought I was going to be sick. And then, I just … there were so many of them, and I … I didn’t want Draco to ….”

Harry let out a startled cry. “Wait, wait a moment. Draco? You’re dating _Malfoy_?”

“Um … y-yes?”

“In the flesh, Potter,” said Draco from behind Neville. “And, on an unrelated subject, you should really look into a career as a warder. By gods, those were difficult.”

Harry winced. “Not difficult enough, obviously.” He scanned through the state of his house and let slip a sigh. “You left them intact.”

“Of course I did, Potter. You have far too many enemies at the moment to leave you unguarded. I’m not a fo—a f….” Draco went stark white and covered his mouth with a shaking hand. “S-Severus? You’re _alive_?”

“So you see,” the man said with a sigh. “Draco, what in the bloody hell are you doing here?”

Draco staggered, trying to recover his wits. “I … I could say the same for you.”

“I am protecting Harry, and saving his life from his former _friends_.” His look of sheer disdain at Neville made the boy let out a squeak.

“Well, that was why I came too.” Draco wrapped an arm around Neville’s waist. “Why we _all_ came.”

“I know you’re angry, Harry,” Neville said in a small voice, “and you have a right to be. I was a coward. But I … I was so scared. And I couldn’t face that many alone. And … I don’t know. But if it means anything, the second I realised you’d escaped and apparated away, I went in search of our allies. We … we’ve been tracking you ever since.”

“Hmm.” Harry looked to Fawkes. “What do you think?”

Fawkes gave a soothing trill. _“There is no dishonesty in them.”_

Harry sighed. “Thank Merlin.” He turned and fixed Draco with a sharp stare. “You were my enemy, Malfoy. Are you still?”

Malfoy stared at his feet. “No. Not anymore. We’re in the same league now, you know. And most of that—that melodrama in school was to keep my father off my back. I was terrified he would discover that I had no plans of following through on that marriage contract with the Parkinson bint.” He shuddered. “The very thought … ugh.”

Neville slipped his hand into Malfoy’s. “You don’t have to now. He’s in prison and your mother is thankfully not quite the cold-hearted bint the other purebloods made her out to be. At least not to the point that she’s going to force you into a marriage you don’t want.”

“She learned from her own disaster of a marriage, thankfully.” Draco sneered. “I hope Father _rots_ in Azkaban for all the pain he caused us both, when he was no better than … no better … ugh.”

“Ssh. I’m here, pet.” Neville brought a suddenly-sniffling Draco into his arms and tucked the shorter man’s head under his chin. “Harry, are you okay? We … well, we all kind of thought you’d be in a bad way, but you look … well, better than I’ve seen for a long time.”

Harry nodded. “Okay is a stretch.” He turned to his lover. “Sev, I think you can lower your wand now. If they weren’t being honest, Fawkes would let us know.”

Neville choked. “Your phoenix—it’s _Fawkes_?”

Harry grinned. “I never realised that the fact that I could call to him in the Chamber meant he was mine. Well, as much as a phoenix can be anyone’s. My friend, I suppose.”

 _“Companion,”_ Fawkes supplied. _“Friend is the term for your mate.”_

Harry petted his head. “Ah. Companion then.”

Luna chirped at Fawkes, whistling merrily. To Harry’s shock, he understood her. In English.

_“Hello again, Fawkes. I am glad you found your human. You were quite lonely.”_

Severus choked. Harry’s eyes bugged. Fawkes just trilled an avian laugh.

_“Luna, dear. You are always good at shocking the daylights out of people.”_

She tittered in response, and Padma gave her a besotted grin.

“She has skills we don’t understand,” Padma explained. “Her creatures—everyone thinks she’s mad, but they’re real. They’re just … not on the same plane, I suppose. But Luna can see them, can talk to them and such.” She shook her head. “It’s enough to make a girl jealous.”

Luna kissed her cheek. “You have talents of your own, love.”

Padma flushed bright red. “Oh. Um, maybe we could not talk about those here?”

Harry burst into shocked snorts of laughter. “Dear gods. Yes, please, do keep those kinds of talents to yourself, Padma. But damn, I’ve a new respect for you now.”

Dean waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t suppose you could give me some pointers, Padma?”

She buried her face in her hands. “Oh gods. _Lu_!”

Luna chuckled and kissed her plait. “Come now. They’re only teasing. Besides, I wasn’t actually speaking of those talents, though you are quite ski—”

Draco cut her off. “And that’s enough of that. Merlin. Harry in one piece when he ought to be on the verge of death, Severus back from the dead, Fawkes’s return, Luna’s ability to chat with a phoenix easy-as-you-please, _and_ tales of Padma’s lesbian exploits are all a bit much for one day.”

“Never imagined I’d be thanking you, Malfoy,” Harry said with a laugh.

Malfoy snorted. “Never imagined I’d give you a reason to. But do call me Draco. We’re on the same side now.”

Harry scowled. “Right. Call me Harry then, but I still think it’s stupid that we need to have a side in the first place. This entire thing is madness. Who cares who we love? I mean, we can have children with surrogates if it’s really a problem, can’t we?”

“No one ever said prejudice was rational, Po—Harry. It’s not like they punish single people for not producing heirs.”

“True enough.” Harry sighed and waved them inside. “I suppose you’d all better come in and close the door. The place is warded, but that doesn’t keep the weather out.” He frowned. “Hmm. I should probably research the wards for that, come to think of it.”

Severus sat next to Harry and sent the remains of their breakfast to the sink. “Draco made a good point, love.” He ignored the cries of shock from four out of their six visitors—Luna was never surprised and apparently Parvati had more of the Sight than Harry had imagined. “You are quite skilled with wards considering you have never had proper training in them.”

Harry gave a dark laugh. “Had to learn, didn’t I? I spent a year on the run from the Death Eaters and crew, and you were one of them. Or so I believed at the time. I remembered how you ….” He looked to Fawkes and shook his head. Best not to mention Dumbledore now, nor the fight afterwards. “You were always so … masterful at everything. So I knew if I wanted to evade you, and the snatchers, and the Death Eaters, _and_ Voldemort into the bargain, I’d better learn to make some damn good wards.” He gave the others a wry look. “And I _thought_ I’d made them good enough to keep people out. How exactly did you find me?”

“Padma,” said Luna with a chuckle. “That was the talent I meant before. She’s quite sensitive to magic trails. It’s how she knows my creatures aren’t simply imaginings.” She smiled happily. “The Buzzing Blimblebees chat with her sometimes, you know. She doesn’t quite understand, but she can hear them.”

Padma blushed and smiled. “Sounds a bit like a Muggle cell phone, only quieter. Drove me mad in class.”

Harry snorted. “I bet it would at that.”

Parvati sat beside Harry and grabbed his hand. “I … Harry, for everything, we’re really sorry. We tried so hard, but no one wanted to listen to us. Even Nev, and he’s regarded as a hero of the war—but no one wanted to hear it.” She shook her head sadly. “I thought it would go that way, though I really hoped I was wrong.”

“Don’t blame yourself, sis,” said Padma. “Your Sight is a far cry more powerful than that tower fraud’s you like so much. Even Lu can’t keep up sometimes.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Luna, hmm? That explains so much.”

“I don’t actually have the Sight, you know,” said Luna with a giggle. “The Glimmerfae just keep me well-informed.”

“I’m sure,” said a droll Severus. “But be that as it may, let us focus on the situation at hand. What is the public’s reaction to Harry’s injuries and disappearance?”

Draco scowled. “Well, _most_ of the public thinks the mob went too far, considering Harry saved all their sorry arses. They were willing to let him live in peace for the most part, even if they wanted to drive him to madness with their lies about him in the Prophet. Not that it’s really any kind of life, but there you are.”

Neville’s eyes flashed. “But a certain arsehole Gryffindor—Merlin, we should’ve seen his true colours in fourth year, Harry!” He sighed. “That bastard. He’s been going about making up rubbish behind Harry’s back, trying to say Harry was—”

Severus cut him off. “Enough. He is hurt enough as is.”

Neville flushed and looked at his feet. “S-sorry. I just thought he should know.”

“I should,” said a stone-faced Harry. “Ron has already betrayed me so thoroughly, I’m not sure how much worse simple lies could make it. What has he done this time?”

Dean gave him a searching look. “I … are you sure you want to know, Harry?”

Harry nodded. “I’m sick of being lied to and kept in the dark. It’s gotten people I loved killed before. So I don’t care how much it hurts—I always want the truth.”

Severus sighed. “I only wanted to leave it until you were more recovered, but if that is how you feel, then I suppose it is best to get it over with. Forgive me, pet.”

Harry leaned against Severus’ shoulder. “Well, you do have a point though. I am still recovering and I’m glad you wanted to protect me. I … it might help me cope if you keep me warm.”

Severus pulled Harry into his lap and held him close. “Is that better?”

“Yeah. Merlin, yeah.” Harry tugged Severus’ arms tighter around his middle and gave Draco a firm nod. “Okay, whatever it is, I can bear it now.”

Draco looked between the two of them with a frown. “H-how exactly … you know what, I’m not sure I want to know.”

Harry chuckled. “It’s nothing sordid. I’ll tell you after you tell me.”

“Right.” Draco sat beside them. “Severus … I wish you’d have told me you lived. I’ve really missed you and … and I wanted … gods.” He covered his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Severus rubbed Draco’s shoulder. “Ssh. I am here now, though I cannot remain so for long. I have made a life for myself in America, and Harry is coming with me.”

Draco winced. “America. Well, it’s far away, but given what Weasel is doing behind your back, I can’t say I blame you. And it’s probably safest for the both of you to stay well out of Britain until this all blows over.”

Neville perched on Draco’s lap. “Love, at the rate Weasel is going on and with how famous Harry is, it’ll never blow over. Not until we change the system.” He sighed. “And who knows how long that’ll take. As much as I hate it, it’s probably best that you get far away from here, Harry. People could eventually forgive a person like me for being gay—I don’t really matter that much in the grand scheme of things. But their hero? Forget it.”

Harry shrugged. “To be honest, I was pretty discontent here anyway. I couldn’t be who I really am, Severus was dead and my heart broken, and the Weasleys—well, they weren’t who I thought they were. I had no place left.”

“The Weasleys ….” Parvati gave him a sad smile. “Harry, they’re not _all_ bad. The ones you were closest to … well, I’m not sure there’s anything to be done to help them. But the ones who left home? They left for a reason.”

Harry frowned. “Charlie? He’s …?”

“Yes, but not just Charlie,” said Neville.

Harry gave him a bemused look. “But he’s the only one who—oh! Oh gods. Wait. You’re saying— _Percy_?”

“He is,” said Severus with a nod. “Percy asked me for help before his … defection. I told him it was probably safer to distance himself from his family before they learned the truth, for which they would hurt him much more. It was … a difficult decision for him, but from what I understand he has been working day and night to get legislation made to protect us. At least he was when I left Britain.”

Harry winced. “So all that about his ambition ….”

“It’s a cover to help him get higher up in the Ministry,” said Draco. “He’s been working his bloody arse off to help people like us.” He sighed. “But it won’t do much good until the general attitude towards us changes. The new wizards—well, the younger crowd are usually more accepting—save for how they treated you. But purebloods? Even young purebloods? The only reason I’m not homophobic myself is because I’m gay. Nev helped me through that tangle, and I was a sodding _mess_ until he did.” He smiled and brought his boyfriend closer. “It’s why I asked him out. Well, that and he looks damn good these days.”

Harry snorted. “Well, I suppose that’s true, though I prefer tall, dark, and mysterious myself.”

Severus grumped. “Isn’t that line supposed to have handsome on the end?”

“That too. I figured you’d be less embarrassed if I said what I did instead, but you know I think you’re gorgeous.”

Severus’ cheeks pinked. “I admit defeat.”

Harry chuckled and leaned back to kiss Severus. “You’re beautiful, love. But that’s enough chit-chat.” He turned to Draco and Neville. “No more diversions. What is Ron actually saying and who’s supporting him?”

Draco winced. “He’s trying to pass it off like … like ….”

Dean took over. “—Like you were in love with him all those years and that you used Ginny to get closer to him.” He kicked at the carpet. “It’s utter madness! Never once in six years did I see you look at any of us that way.”

Neville nodded. “Well, I thought you were a bit mad over the Half-Blood Prince, but that’s the only sign any of us ever got that you were gay at all.”

Severus let out a wry snort. “So you truly have been in love with me for years, hmm, Harry?”

Harry nodded, his heart too sick to respond to Severus’ humour. “That’s … that’s a load of bollocks—about Ron, I mean. From sixth year on, Severus has had my heart, though I didn’t realise he was the Prince until later.”

“What?” Neville grinned. “You’re the Half-Blood Prince, Professor? How _interesting_.”

Harry gave him a weak smile. “It’s always been Severus for me.” He buried his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this. I … why would he do this to me? It’s one thing to hate me because I’m gay, but this is another level of hatred altogether! Why? I … I thought he was my friend.”

Neville looked at his hands and Draco turned away. Parvati blushed and hugged her chest. Dean closed his eyes and lowered his head. Padma buried her face in Luna’s shoulder. Severus glared at the lot of them.

“Well? What do you know?”

Luna petted gave Harry a sad smile. “Well, it’s the same reason it always is with Ron, I suppose. Every time an article came out praising you and not him, the wrackspurts flocked to his ears. It’s no different this time.”

Harry shook his head. “Um, Lu, can you translate that to human, please?”

 _“She is telling you he is jealous of your fame,”_ Fawkes supplied.

Harry blanched. “Jealous. He’s _jealous_? He … dear gods, did he not see how it wrecked my life? How I had to come out here into the middle of nowhere, block my floo, tell no one where I am—and the rest of you had best not reveal it either—and ward this place to hell and back just to get five moments of peace? Did he not understand … I never wanted to be famous at all and I’d have gladly given it to him if I could? I … Merlin. I c-can’t.”

His voice broke, and Severus cradled him in strong, loving arms. “Ssh. I know, pet. I know. I am here, and you are not alone.”

Harry turned his face into Severus’ throat and wept.

  


* * *

  


The other students watched silently as Severus tried to help Harry through his grief. Severus wasn’t entirely comfortable with revealing so much of his gentle side in front of Harry’s friends, but Harry needed him, and so he did his best to soothe his distraught partner’s pain.

Even with all he could do, it wasn’t enough. Merlin, how he ached to heal Harry and make him whole again.

“Love, I am here. I am with you.” It was all he could do—reassure Harry and show him love.

Harry murmured Severus’ name and pressed a kiss into his throat. Severus held back a gasp by incredible force of will, but Harry must have felt him jump.

“Sorry, Sev,” he whispered in the older man’s ear. “Just wanted to let you know I’m glad to have you with me.”

Severus tilted his face up to capture Harry’s lips in a soft kiss, prompting a round of gasps and squeals from their guests. Severus flushed, embarrassed, but did not pull away.

“Are you well, pet?”

Harry gave a wry, bitter laugh. “I’m pretty sure I never will be again. But you help.” He gave the others a sad smile. “And knowing I’m not entirely alone helps too. Thank you. All of you.”

Draco grinned. “It’s about time you recognised my worth, scarhead.”

Harry snorted. “Still arrogant as ever, ferret.”

Draco scowled. “I’ll have you know I resent that nickname. That was a traumatising day.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. Beside him, Severus did the same.

“Merlin,” said Neville with a laugh. “You two look too much alike when you do that.”

Harry blinked. “We do?”

“Like soul-mates,” Luna said with a dreamy smile.

“Ah.” Severus held Harry tight. “Well, perhaps we are then.”

Harry gave him a hopeful, happy smile. “R-really? You think so?”

“I do.” Severus kissed his lips lightly. “Now, does that heal your pain a little?”

Harry frowned. “Is that why you said it?”

Severus glared. “Not in the least.”

“Then yes! It heals quite a bit.”

Severus smiled and held him close. “Good.”

Neville moved off of Draco’s lap and sat at his feet. “Okay then, I think it’s story time. Tell us how in the bloody hell _this_ happened!” He waved a hand at Harry and Severus. “We all thought you were dead, Professor!”

“To Britain, I am.” Severus fixed them all with a stony glare. “Tell no one I am alive. Please. I have made a happy life for myself overseas and I do not want it destroyed.”

Neville bowed his head. “You saved us all, Professor. If what you want is privacy, I reckon you’ve earned the right to it.”

“I agree,” said Luna. “I’ll keep your secret, sir.”

“Me too,” said Dean.

“And me,” said the Patil twins at once.

Draco laid a hand on Severus’ arm. “I won’t tell either, but will you keep in touch with me? Even if you need to use another name?”

Severus bowed. “I will. I have missed you as well.”

Draco smiled. “Thank you. Um, what name should I look for?”

“Professor Sevano Meredith. That may change to doctor soon. Or Mediwizard.”

Draco grinned. “You’re in healing now?”

“Yes. I will tell you all what I have told Harry so far, but first, I must apologise. With the shock of everything thus far, I have been sorely negligent in caring for our guests.”

With a wave of his hand, Severus conjured a beanbag chair for Luna and Padma, and they sank into it side by side with matching smiles. A conjured pot of tea and a tray of biscuits later, Severus was satisfied.

“ _Now_ we may talk.”

And with a hesitant smile, he settled into his tale.


	9. Friends in Odd Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : discussion of brutal injuries. Probably going to have to go back and edit the previous two chapters at some point. Harry really shouldn't have been moved until his back was fixed. Well, we'll just say Sev's magic kept him safe for the moment, until I can figure out how to make it better._
> 
> _Summary : Harry gets a lot of correspondence and finds out he has other 'allies' in unexpected places. Draco and crew come to say goodbye and help Harry establish a new identity. Severus finds hard evidence of how much Harry loves him and discusses worrying news with Draco. Next chapter starts their new life in San Francisco!_
> 
> * * *

##  **Chapter 9**

* * *

_Friends in Odd Places_

Though staying made Severus nervous, he could not deny that Harry needed one more night of recovery time before they could leave Britain. Draco wanted to visit with Severus a bit longer anyway.

That night, Severus offered to sleep on the sofa. Harry told him he was free to choose, but the lonely smile on his face as he said it had Severus reconsidering.

“Pet, would you prefer to have me next to you?”

Harry winced. “I … I don’t want to pressure you into it, Severus. If you’d rather wait, that’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

 _Fine_. So Harry still used that word like a mask. Severus sighed. “Hmm. That might fool your friends but it will not slip past me.”

Harry winced. “Severus, really. It’s okay.”

Fawkes, cosied up on a mahogany and gold-plated perch Draco had brought from the manor for him, crooned sadly.

With a nod to the phoenix, Severus carried Harry up the loft stairs and, after dressing them both in pyjamas with a flick of his wand, curled into the bed behind him. “I had forgotten that extra warmth on your spine might help it heal a little sooner.”

Harry leaned back into Severus and drew the man’s arm tighter around him. “Mm. I’m pretty sure if I asked Madam Pomfrey about that, she would disagree.”

Severus flinched. _‘She most certainly would. Vehemently.’_ He said nothing out loud and caressed Harry’s fingers instead.

Harry sighed. “So it’s a good thing I didn’t go to her first, hmm?”

Severus kissed the nape of Harry’s neck, thrilling in the soft gasp the touch elicited. “I am unsure. After the Malfoy fiasco, she always looked at me … differently. She never said anything about it, so it is possible she was prejudiced against the person I chose rather than the fact that he was male. Your mother wa—shite. I … never mind it.”

Harry’s hands covered Severus’. “Tell me, angel. If she hurt you, then it’s up to me to heal it. And … I need to know. Would both my parents have hated me?”

Severus sighed onto Harry’s neck. “I am sorry, love. I should have been more discreet. One year out of spying and it seems I have already forgotten how to hold my tongue.”

Harry turned in Severus’ arms and kissed him softly. “Good. I want to know your hidden places. I want to know all your wounds and all your cherished memories, so I can heal your pain and share in your joy.” Tears wobbled at the corners of his lashes. “Even if it hurts, Severus, even if it’s not what I want to hear, please don’t hide things from me. We spent the entire war doing that, and now that it’s over, I don’t want to go back to those days of secrets and pain. I have nothing more to hide.”

Severus pressed a gentle kiss to Harry’s forehead. “I only meant to protect you, but if it is so important to you to always have the full truth, then I swear to hide nothing from you from now on, unless it is not my secret to share.”

Harry smiled and blinked his tears back. “Thank you. It _is_ important to me. Just look at what secrets and lies have done to Britain if you want to know why I find it so crucial to keep nothing hidden between us.”

“Fair enough.” Severus pressed their foreheads together and held Harry close. “I … how much do you know of what I suffered after Lucius outed me?”

Harry scowled. “Not much. I know he got off the hook because of Narcissa while you suffered, but as far as specifics … well, it seems even the stodgy pureblood bigots must know their actions were wrong on some level, because when I asked what they did to you, none of them would be up front with me.”

“Ah, so you simply did not know the details. I read your tribute to me in the Prophet—and I hope to the gods I need never witness you mourn like that again—but I had wondered why you left the abuse concerning my sexuality out when you touched on every other injustice of my youth.” Severus gave him a sad smile. “I had assumed you did not want to draw attention to your own secrets.”

Harry shuddered. “I _was_ afraid, but I would have published it anyway had I any solid facts. All I knew was that people had been cruel to you but not Malfoy, and that Malfoy had actually deserved the scorn—you had done nothing but break a few rules, and that was no worse than any other student your age. McGonagall couldn’t give me details though, and no one else would tell me anything at all, other than you were mistreated in general. And even that much I had to glean from reading between the lines.”

Severus frowned. “Minerva vouched for me?”

“Yeah. She loves you, Sev. The reason she mistrusted you during the war wasn’t because of your sexuality, but because of your mark. She didn’t want you to turn students to the dark and wasn’t completely sure of your loyalties. She regrets it terribly now.” Harry kissed him lightly. “If … if you can bring yourself to, you might send her a letter. I think knowing how badly she treated you is aging her too soon.”

A terrible weight lifted from Severus’ chest. “I … I had hoped she regarded me as some kind of friend. To know that she does not find me repulsive is … a relief.” He frowned. “But how are you sure she can be trusted?”

Harry gave him a sad little laugh. “She was my only confidant. When I asked her about you, she railed against the injustices done to you. She didn’t have specifics—she said you never confided in her and no one else would tell her what was happening—but she was absolutely _livid_ about it.

“So after the article, when I knew things with Ginny were falling apart and I just couldn’t be what she wanted me to be, I went to Mc—Minerva. I talked to her for hours, actually broke down sobbing in her office because I hadn’t realised you were my one love until you were already gone. I dare say it shocked the tartan off of her to know I was in love with you, but she wasn’t unkind about it. She just told me that if I needed a place to hide, I could come to her and she would grant me sanctuary.”

He gave a sad little laugh. “I probably should have gone there after being beaten, but this house has been my hideout for the past year. Coming here was habit, and I admit, after being betrayed like that and with how badly they’d hurt me, I couldn’t think much beyond the pain.”

“Understandable. It is probably good you did not go to Hogwarts that night. You might have run into others less supportive of you long before you made it to Minerva’s office, love.” Severus nuzzled him close. “I am glad you came here regardless. I would not have been able to help you had you not.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I was delirious with pain.” Harry laid his head against Severus’ shoulder and held him close. “I do think you should send her a letter. She’s been good to me.” He kissed Severus’ cheek. “But will you tell me what Mum did now?”

Severus sighed. “First, I will have to make it clear to you how I was treated. I believe you can surmise that the other Slytherins turned their back on me.”

Harry nodded. “I can imagine, based on what the other Gryffindors did to me.”

“The Slytherins were not _that_ cruel. At least, they checked their violence before it reached the point of potential murder or maiming.” Severus ran a gentle hand down Harry’s spine. “What they did to you … even if you had survived, if not for Fawkes, I do not think even my combination of Muggle and Wizarding medicine could have spared you a lifetime of sheer agony.”

Harry cringed. “I didn’t realise it was that bad.”

“Your spine was … twisted. Broken in several places. It was why I kept trying to keep you from moving. I feared you would end up paralysing yourself even with the measures I took to immobilise your injured vertebrae.”

Harry grimaced. “Good thing Fawkes came when he did then.”

“Yes. I would not have you suffer such pain.” Severus sighed. “I was never beaten so badly, but I suffered terribly under the Slytherins’ hatred. It was … a terrible time, and before long, I became desperate. Then, I made the mistake of going to my head of house for help.”

He scowled. “I should have known not to trust him. Slughorn had never liked me, even before I was outed. By all rights, my skills in potions, defence, and spellcraft should have earned me a place in that thrice-damned club, not that I care now, but then, it hurt that I was consistently overlooked. I am unsure if he had suspicions of my homosexuality or if he disliked me for other reasons—my poverty, perhaps—but I should have remembered his long-standing aversion towards me before I approached him that day.”

Harry growled. “What did he do?”

Severus rested his forehead against Harry’s, drawing comfort from the intimacy of the pose and the feel of Harry’s breath and skin so close to his own. Harry cupped Severus’ face and stroked the feathery hair by his ears, simply holding him until Severus found his voice.

“He … when I came to plead for help, he had a stack of candidates available for an arranged marriage—all female, of course. He gave me a choice of choosing a bride or taking a massive loss of points and serving a month’s worth of detentions in the foulest conditions possible. I, of course, told him to bugger off and received the point loss and _three_ months’ worth of detentions for my cheek. Malfoy was not punished at all.”

“Foul git,” Harry hissed. “I knew I had a reason to hate the slimy, unctuous, arse-kissing—”

Severus stopped Harry’s litany with a gentle kiss. “Thank you.”

Harry scowled. “I really hate that berk.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Severus laid his head on Harry’s shoulder and sighed. “From then on, I … I was miserable. It was not only the students—after that day, everyone in Hogwarts turned on me. Only Albus ever stepped in, and you are aware of how unreliable his support was. I felt entirely alone, and so, in desperation, I went to Lily and begged her help.”

Tears blurred his vision, but Severus closed his eyes and held them in. For the moment. “She did not hate homosexuals.”

Harry gasped. “So she accepted you?”

Severus gave a bitter laugh. “She did not hate me for my preferences, but she _did_ hate Death Eaters and dark wizards. She would not have rejected me had I slept with a Hufflepuff boy or with anyone not in my own house, but because I chose a Slytherin, and particularly Malfoy, she rejected me even more fiercely than she had the year before. She told me to go crawling back to him if I wanted someone who cared.” His tears escaped his control. “I had no one left in the world when I went to her, dark or light. I was all alone and miserable and on my knees, and she _still_ refused to accept me.”

Harry made a strangled sound of pain. “Oh, _Severus_.” He cradled the man’s head against his shoulder and kissed his hair. “Oh gods. I … that’s awful. I-I’m so s-sorry.” He buried his face in Severus’ long hair and sniffled quietly, breathing ragged and pained, grief present in every breath.

Severus slid one hand into Harry’s messy hair and held him tight with the other, hoping his embrace healed the man’s pain, at least a little.

“I am sorry, pet. I did not wish to hurt you so.”

Harry moved back and kissed Severus, a brief but intense display of love. “Hush. You didn’t hurt me—she hurt you, and by extension, me.” He sighed and laid his forehead against Severus’. “I’m sorry. I wish I could fix it.”

Severus traced Harry’s cheek with feather-light fingertips. “If it helps, I believe she would have stood by you. I believe she would have been inordinately proud of you and angry as a nesting dragon over what your former friends have done to harm you.”

“It doesn’t matter, since she would have rejected the man I love.”

Severus kissed Harry’s temple. “Beloved, if you had been there to fight for me, I think she would have accepted us both.”

Harry sniffled and gave Severus a hesitant smile. “Really?”

“Yes. At the time Lily rejected me, she believed as Minerva did, that I was dark. If you had been there to defend me, to fight for my honour like you have done so ferociously over the past year, Merlin, Harry, how could she deny you? For gods’ sake, you forced even the scandal-loving, pureblood-owned Prophet to proclaim me a hero for the world to see. And Lily loved you. There is no possibility she would have ignored you, when it is clear even to someone as affection-starved as myself that you … you love me with your whole being.”

Harry blinked tears down his face, but he was smiling. “I do love you.”

“I think, pet, that your love would have saved us both, had she lived long enough to see it.”

“Thank you, love. I don’t know how you can say that after the number of times she hurt you, but thank you.” Harry kissed him tenderly, but tears shone in his eyes when he broke the kiss. “She was horrible to turn you away though. You were begging her. How could she have done it? How could anyone?”

Severus gave Harry a sad smile. “It is difficult to see the world in shades of grey when one is sixteen, Harry. We were children. She did not understand that one can be trapped in darkness without being evil.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, then shut it with a click. “Hmm. I guess I can see that. I sure wasn’t ready to believe anything good of Malfoy then. I don’t know if I’d have believed him if he’d come to me begging for help.”

Severus stroked Harry’s cheek. “On the contrary, Harry, I think, of all the people I have met, you may be the only one who would have given him a chance.”

“Once, I would have said Hermione would, but ….” Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

Severus’ heart ached for Harry’s grief. “I understand.”

Harry laid his head on Severus’ shoulder. “Yeah. You do.”

Severus hugged Harry close. “Let us try to rest, love. I am with you, and as we have seen today, you are not alone. For now, simply rest and know you are safe and accepted here.”

Harry snuggled closer. “All right, Sev. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, pet. I am here if you need me.”

Harry kissed his shoulder and settled down, and Severus let the sound of Harry’s steady breathing and the warmth of his arms carry him into dreams.

  


* * *

  


Severus woke from a dream about his darker days with a start. Fear and confusion muddled his brain as he tried to work out where he was and why he wasn’t alone. His partner shifted closer and mumbled something he couldn’t make out, and relief washed over him. It was only Harry.

Warmth and peace spread through his chest as Severus watched flickers of emotion cross his partner’s face. Now and then Harry’s brow contracted and the corners of his mouth turned down, but a gentle brush of Severus’ hand across his cheek or a kiss on his forehead soothed him. Every so often, he smiled and reached subconsciously for Severus.

Those moments filled Severus with joy. Harry really _did_ care for him. For the first time in his life, he had someone to depend on. Someone to hold him when the nightmares cut too close to the bone. Someone to hold in return.

Merlin, Severus hardly knew what to do with his wild emotions. He had no idea how to act or what to do. Yesterday had been a bit easier—Harry was still recovering, both physically and emotionally, and Severus had only to support him through his pain and be there for him when he needed a loving touch. But today they would be starting a new life, leaving this place behind for good.

What if Severus wasn’t enough? No one had ever taught him how to love. He had spent years in desolate, clawing loneliness, wishing for even the slightest human touch to ease his sorrow. Night after night fighting the burning need for something physical, something passionate, yet never being able to give into his desires. Then, in later years after the desperate keening need had dulled to a familiar ache in his soul, he had given up on physical affection, but spent every moment wishing he had someone just to talk to. Someone to share his achievements and failures with, and someone to listen to in return.

Gods help him, how could he possibly know how to love someone after such a barren life? He had no experience of affection but a void, no guide to being the partner Harry needed except the knowledge of what he had wanted in those lonely days and never found.

Severus shook himself and snuggled Harry closer. It wasn’t hopeless. Harry could teach him and Severus was willing to learn. Maybe he could read a book or two on the subject when they returned to San Francisco.

He winced. _Books_. They had forgotten about Harry’s bookstore.

Well, they had time enough to discuss it when Harry woke. For the moment, Severus was content to watch his partner dream.

Merlin, his partner. Severus’ life had surely taken an unexpected turn. He hadn’t even considered the young man as a romantic partner before yesterday, had never imagined such a thing to be a remote possibility, but now, looking at Harry’s sweet face and the way the man held him even while he slept … Harry had entranced him. His kisses left Severus reeling, his arms made him feel safe, and his kindness gave him the courage to reach out one more time after twenty-three years living as an ascetic.

He softly petted Harry’s curls, a slow smile spreading across his face. Those days were over now. After almost two and a half decades of stark loneliness, Severus finally had someone to touch him when he needed affection. He had someone to talk to about his day and to listen to in return. And, after a little time spent courting, he would have someone to love physically too. This time, it wouldn’t just be a diversion spent too drunk to use his better judgment either. No, this time, they would make love. A delightful shiver tingled his spine at the thought.

And it would truly be making love. Harry _adored_ him—it wasn’t convenience or lust for power or even a shared loneliness and a desire for a night together to heal the pain. No, Harry loved Severus as he was. He had waited, mourned, and missed him for a year. _Him_ , Severus Snape, bane of the wizarding world and greasy dungeon bat of the dungeons. Harry had only seen the worst sides of him and yet, he loved him anyway.

The mere idea was heady. It left Severus in awe to think that this young man he had hurt so badly had been the one person able to see beyond his masks and love what he found there.

They hadn’t been together long, but already, Severus’ heart and life belonged to the young man sleeping in his arms. Always had done, if he was honest with himself.

If Severus wasn’t in love already, it wouldn’t take long.

With a sigh of happiness, Severus kissed Harry’s forehead and held him close. “Do you have any idea what you have done for me, pet?”

Perhaps he did, at that. If anyone knew what it meant to live without love, Harry did. Well, they would soon change that for each other, one day at a time.

Severus couldn’t wait to start.

He moved in to kiss Harry into wakefulness, but a flutter and sharp cry from behind him had him bolting up, wand Summoned into his palm before he finished turning. Pulse thundering in his ears, he angled himself to shield Harry’s body and searched in the dim predawn light for the intruder.

A fluffy grey head poked out from behind a dresser and gave a hesitant _“whoo?”_ Just an owl, thank the gods.

Severus sighed and lowered his wand. “Merlin, you startled me, little one.”

Harry’s sleep-roughened voice muttered, “Sev’rus?”

“It is all right, love.” Severus turned back to his lover and kissed Harry’s cheek. “Forgive me for frightening you. I am afraid I still do not react well to being surprised.”

Harry tugged Severus back into his arms. “Mmhn. Understandable, but we’ll work on it.”

“Perhaps. In the meantime, that owl is most likely for you.” Severus levelled his wand at the bird, who ducked behind the dresser again. “It is all right, little one. I will not harm you. I only wish to check you for curses, as well as your letter. My companion here has many people who would wish him harm.”

The owl hopped onto the desk and bobbed her head uncertainly. Severus smiled in an attempt to set her at ease. “Thank you. You should only feel a little warm air.”

The bird—a screech owl, little wonder her call had startled Severus half out of his wits—nodded and closed her eyes tight. Several detection spells and a calming charm later, Severus ruled the owl as clean.

“Come, little one. Let us see your—”

“The owl can wait a moment.”

Harry turned Severus onto his back and pressed him into the mattress, pinning Severus’ hands under Harry’s weight and holding them in strong, calloused palms.

Severus’ heartrate shot up, alarm racing through him. “H-Harry?”

Harry nuzzled at his cheek and murmured in his ear. “S’okay, Sev’rus.”

Severus carefully tried to free his hands, but with Harry’s weight pinning him to the mattress, they wouldn’t move—not without alerting Harry to his intent to escape, and he had no idea how Harry might react to a struggle.

Shite. He was trapped. Gods, what did Harry intend to do with him? Severus wasn’t ready to act on the physical side of their relationship, but he knew full well Harry _was_. Harry wouldn’t push him, would he? They hadn’t been together long, but what did Severus know of relationships anyway? Maybe more was expected at this point?

Confused and terrified, Severus tensed, every muscle held taut as a bowstring and ready to fight back at the first sign of danger.

“Please. Don’t.”

Harry moved back, relieving the press of his weight, though he still held Severus’ hands tight. “Ssh. Severus, it’s okay. I would _never_ hurt you or push you into anything you don’t want. It’s all right. I love you, Sev, and I know you’re not ready for more. Ssh. You’re safe here, I swear.”

Harry’s gentle words and soft kisses to his forehead and cheeks did calm Severus. Merlin, he should have known Harry wouldn’t hurt him. The man hadn’t a cruel bone in his body.

Severus winced and turned his face into Harry’s touch. “I am sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Harry kissed the tip of his nose. “I should’ve realised pinning you might scare you, especially after the kind of life you’ve led. Are you okay?”

Severus relaxed. “I … I am. I trust you.”

Harry gently moved Severus onto his back again, slowly this time, watching his eyes as they moved. Harry’s gentleness eased Severus’ worries. This time, the older man trusted in his partner’s honour and let himself be led, curiosity and affection warm in his chest. Once Severus was on his back, Harry leaned onto Severus’ chest and laced their fingers together.

“Okay, Sev? Not scared this time?”

With a hesitant smile, Severus squeezed Harry’s hands and shifted so the younger man lay half along the length of his entire body, legs intertwined.

“I trust you.”

Harry’s smile was blinding. “Good.” His eyes shone with love and pure, radiant joy.

“Gods, you’re lovely,” Severus whispered.

Harry flushed. “So are you.” His breath hitched. “Oh, Severus. Do you know how many mornings I wished I would wake up like this?” His voice quavered and broke. “Every night, I would lie down beside someone I couldn’t love and wish, when I woke up, I would find you in my arms instead, safe and whole and happy. I dreamed of this moment for years, and thought it would never come.” Tears wobbled on his lashes, but Harry blinked them back. “And now, now that you’re here, I want to let you know how bloody _happy_ I am to have you.”

Severus made a strangled noise of surprise as Harry kissed him. He turned his face away, embarrassment making him squirm.

“Severus?” Harry’s voice rippled with hurt, and Severus turned back to him, face flushed.

“I … it is only that I have not yet had an opportunity to brush my teeth, pet.”

Harry’s expression relaxed. “You’re worried about your breath? Merlin, I’m in the same shape—there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I just want to kiss you and let you know I love you.” He frowned. “Unless you don’t want a kiss yet.”

Severus hesitated. “I do not know the etiquette of relationships, Harry. I had assumed it would distress you, but if you are truly comfortable, then I would not turn you away.”

“Ah, good.”

Harry leaned in and kissed Severus with a soft, gentle touch.

Oh, oh yes, this was good. Sweet and loving, and yet Severus felt he would burn up from the pressure of Harry’s body along his own and the heat of his kiss. He longed to reach up and tangle his fingers in Harry’s hair, but with his hands pinned, he could only accept Harry’s advances and use the rest of his body to express his pleasure. He wrapped his leg around Harry’s thigh and pulled him closer, and Harry gasped into their kiss.

With a soft murmur of his lover’s name, Harry teased his way between Severus’ lips and slowly moved deeper. Severus shivered at the tender kiss, and moaned at the touch of Harry’s tongue on his own.

Yes, they tasted raw—what else could one expect so early in the morning?—but gods, it felt so good Severus could hardly care. Harry was lapping along the edges of Severus’ tongue, not pressing too deep, just exploring and finding a rhythm they both enjoyed. And sweet Merlin, _enjoyed_ didn’t begin to cover it. Every slight brush had him keening with need and desire.

With a muffled cry, he arched into Harry and kissed him hard, holding Harry’s thigh and hands for all he was worth.

The owl gave a hoot like a wolf whistle, and Severus broke the kiss with a breathless laugh. “Got more of a show than you were expecting, hmm, Madam Owl?”

The owl bobbed her head vehemently.

Harry chuckled and eased back from Severus. “Probably a good thing she interrupted us. With you kissing me like that, Merlin. I was losing control. You feel so good.”

Severus closed his eyes against a fierce surge of desire. He could wait. He _could_.

Maybe.

“I enjoyed it too.” He pressed a light kiss to Harry’s lips. “But perhaps we should see what she has brought us now?”

“Mm, yes we should.”

Severus slipped an arm behind Harry’s shoulders and helped him to sit, then beckoned the owl over. “All right, little one. Let’s see what you have here.”

Severus took a letter from the bird’s outstretched leg and examined the address. “Ah. It’s from Percy.”

Harry blinked. “ _Percy_? What in the world would he want with me?”

“Well, as he is the forefront of the alliance for non-heteronormative British magicals, pet, I imagine he wants to offer you his friendship and wants to know if you’re safe.”

Harry frowned and opened the letter. “Read it with me if you want.”

“As you wish.” Severus settled Harry against his chest and read over the younger man’s shoulder.

  


> _Harry,_
> 
> _Neville called me yesterday to ask my help with your injuries. I tried to find you through the Ministry, but I couldn’t track you. Whatever wards you have on your place now, they’re excellent if not even the DoM can find you. Good work._
> 
> _I … I must apologise for the way I have had to treat you over the years and for not being able to come yesterday. Neville assured me they had enough people to treat you and my presence would only risk everything we are working so hard for. I am sorry, Harry, that I could not be a friend to you. You deserved better. And gods, I am so terribly sorry for the miserable way my so-called brother treated you. There isn’t a cell in Azkaban cold enough for that kind of betrayal._
> 
> _Anyway, I’m sure you don’t want to focus on him at the moment, so I’ll leave that subject alone._
> 
> _I think the others have told you the truth about me? That I am homosexual myself and a … well, a sort of spy for our cause. Nothing to Professor Snape, of course. The man was … Merlin, he was incredible. I wish I had realised sooner what a brave man he was._

  


Severus clutched Harry tighter and buried a wave of emotion against his hair. He had tried, gods forgive him, he had tried so hard to be strong for them all.

Harry took Severus’ hand and held it against his waist, rubbing slow fingers across the man’s hand as he read aloud.

  


> _Anyway, like Severus was, I am working in enemy territory and trying to gain a foothold in the Ministry. If we can garner enough support in secret—and we do have support, Harry. Not everyone in Britain is a homophobic bigot—if we can manage to convince enough people to take a stand for our freedom, then we can oust the bigots in power and make changes for the better. We can make this world a better place for us and our children._
> 
> _That said, I will not ask you to stand with us. You’ve already stood in the line of fire for Britain, and they repaid you with hatred._
> 
> _This time, you’ve done your part. Leave the rest to us._
> 
> _Neville told me you’re safe and you’re on your way out of Britain today. He didn’t say where you were headed, only that you’d had enough and you were on your way out. I hope it’s far, far away from this cesspool of backwards idiots._
> 
> _Wherever you’re going, Harry, good luck. I’m sorry Britain has been so terribly unkind to you, and wish you good fortunes in your new life._
> 
> _Sincerely,  
>  Percy Weasley_
> 
> _P.S.: Harry, I’ve heard rumours of an underground movement gathering power and members for the same purpose I have. As of now, I don’t know much in the way of specifics, but I’m asking around undercover and will let you know when I have any solid information to report._

  


“An underground group?” Severus suppressed a chill at those words. “Hmm. I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

Harry nodded, his face a study of concern. “No. I don’t much either, but then again, maybe they just want to organise a peaceful protest or something. One can hope so anyway.”

“So close on the heels of the last war, I have my doubts.” Severus shook his head. “Either way, I shan’t become embroiled in this country’s affairs again. I have done my part, and so have you, as Percy said.”

Harry frowned. “If they’re in trouble ….”

“As of now, all we know is that a group is meeting in secret to challenge the purebloods’ treatment of British gays. Alone, that is nothing to be concerned over. And, love, I fear you are simply too prominent a figure to fight for them regardless. You would be a target all over again, risking fire from _both_ sides, and I ….” Severus held Harry close against him. “Perhaps it is selfish, but I have waited forty years for you, pet. I do not want to risk you. Especially not so soon.”

Harry sighed and laid the letter on his nightstand. “I know you’re right, but Merlin. I … I’m worried about this.”

“At the moment, there is nothing we need worry about. There is nothing wrong with a group meeting to challenge oppressive laws. In fact, I feel it is past time _someone_ did something about it.” Severus sighed. “I only hope they do so peacefully, like you said. Perhaps if Percy is able to infiltrate their ranks, he will be able to keep them on the straight and narrow.”

Harry gave Severus a relieved smile. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s true.” He moved carefully to the edge of the bed and eased himself to a standing position. “Ah, I feel much better today. No pain to speak of. Does that mean we’re ready to go?”

“I have packed everything of worth that you wish to take with us from your loft, but Draco is bringing by your belongings from your home after breakfast, and we must decide what to do about your shop and its stock. Then, once that is done, we can leave.”

Harry frowned. “My shop. I put so much into it. Do you … suppose it’s still standing?”

“Did you ward it like you did this home?”

Harry nodded.

“Then I doubt anyone with the intent to loot or destroy it could come within a kilometre of its doors.”

Harry smirked. “Maybe I really _should_ look into a career in warding if you think they’re that good.”

“It requires two more years of schooling and an apprenticeship, but I would support you, if that is what you wish to do.”

Harry smiled and nuzzled close. “Might not be so bad. I could protect people. And we can always read together at home.”

Severus nodded, returning the smile. “That sounds lovely. What do we do with your stock, then?”

“Ah, we’ll take it with us. I’ll send a Patronus to Neville and ask him to gather what’s left for me and pack it up. We’ll have one hell of a library, Severus.”

Severus chuckled. “It seems I will need to purchase more shelving.”

Harry grinned. “Loads more. But, if you’d rather, we can just sell what there’s no room for. It would give me a leg up while I’m working on my career.” He paused. “Sev, can we get an elf? Or do you already have one?”

“I do not. Why do you wish to have one? I had thought you proscribed to Miss Granger’s views on the creatures.”

“Er … not quite. I don’t want to see them enslaved, but they _need_ a family, don’t they? Dobby was an odd duck. Most of the house elves I’ve met can’t function without someone to take care of, so I guess, as long as I treat them well, they’ll be okay.”

“Hmm. Fair enough. You did not answer my question, though.”

Harry shivered and tucked his head under Severus’ chin. “It’s just that Dobby saved my life any number of times. So did Kreacher. And when I was hurt, lying here alone and dying slowly, I wished I still knew of one who could help me. So it’s more for safety than anything, though a smart elf could help you with your work too. And in return, we can offer them a happy home where they won’t be overworked or mistreated.”

Severus nodded. “Very well. We shall find a suitable elf as soon as we are settled in San Francisco.”

Harry smiled and kissed him lightly. “Thanks. Now that we have that done, let me just take a lav break and we’ll get started on breakfast.”

“Off with you then, unless you’d like to be carried downstairs?”

Harry laughed and blushed. “I think I can manage myself as long as I’m careful.”

“Hmm. I am coming with you anyway, just to be certain you do not fall.”

“Thanks, Sev. I love you.”

Severus answered Harry with a warm kiss. “Come then.” He moved to stand backwards on the stairs, hands out to steady his partner, and guided him down.

Harry made it without trouble.

  


* * *

  


Severus cooked again, this time a simple repast of eggs, rashers, and toast with jam, but Harry thoroughly enjoyed it.

“Next time, I’m cooking for you. I can make a bang up breakfast.”

“I’m sure of that.” Severus scowled. “Remind me to send your relatives a curse or twenty through owl post someday soon.”

Harry chuckled. “Ooh. Is there a way to stick a camera to the parcel so we can get a record of their reactions?”

Severus laughed. “I am sure I could create something for that purpose.”

“Oh, really?” Harry grinned. “Might I help? I don’t know much about spellcrafting, but I’d love to learn.”

Severus tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Remind me what your NEWT scores for Charms and Transfiguration were?”

“Both O’s.”

“Truly? Well, that is more than good enough to work on spellcraft. I will train you then.”

“Brilliant!”

Severus chuckled. “So enthusiastic. I am curious, though. I did not think you were above an E in Transfiguration. How did you manage an O?”

Harry flushed. “Er, it’s because I spent the summer learning to be an Animagus. They couldn’t deny me when they saw my form.”

Severus eyebrow shot up. “ _That_ was not published in the Prophet.”

Harry gave him a grim smile. “I forced them all to take an oath of secrecy and hid the knowledge of my Animagus form under a _Fidelius_ —hence my O in charms, by the way. Now no one can speak of my form except me. Even my registration is hidden. Just in case I’m ever taken off guard by the remainder of Voldemort’s supporters, I thought it would be a handy method of escape. And a way to survive, come to think of it.”

Severus gave him a warm smile of approval. “Would you mind sharing your form with me?”

Harry closed his eyes. When he opened them again, rather than a human, a phoenix with emerald green feathers sat across the table from Severus. As Severus made a strangled noise of shock and wonder, Harry trilled at a joyous Fawkes and flew to sit beside his familiar.

_“You are a beautiful phoenix, Companion.”_

Harry nudged Fawkes’ head with his own. _“So are you.”_

Severus had finally recovered the use of his voice. “A _luck phoenix_? Dear Merlin, Harry. Do you have any idea how rare—”

A shocked hoot interrupted Severus’ surprised outcry. Harry looked up to see a chubby horned owl coming to land on the back of Harry’s just-vacated chair. He shuddered and scooted closer to Fawkes.

 _“What is it, Companion?”_ The phoenix nuzzled Harry’s head. _“Why are you afraid?”_

_“That’s Hermione’s owl.”_

Severus scowled. “Indeed?”

Harry gave an avian sigh and leapt from the perch, shifting into his human form before he hit the ground. “Yeah. Merlin, I don’t know if I even want to read that letter.”

Severus motioned to Harry. “Come, both of you, behind me. After what her fiancé did to you, pet, I do not trust her in the least.”

Harry lifted Fawkes onto his wrist and stood at Severus’ side instead of behind him. A powerful wandless shield surrounded them all.

“We’re a team now, love,” Harry said in a soft voice. “What threatens you threatens me as well, and we face our issues together. Fawkes too.”

Fawkes chirped his agreement.

Severus gave Harry a quick peck and whipped out his wand. “Very well. I believe your shield is sufficient, so stay behind them while I check for curses.”

“All right. I’ll hold the shields and wards around us steady.”

Severus whipped around to stare at his partner. “ _Wards_? You already have wards around us?”

Harry blushed. “Yes.”

Severus gave him a wry smile. “ _Definitely_ look into a career as a warder, pet.”

Harry grinned and slipped his arm through Severus’. “We should be protected from anything he can throw at us short of an Avada, Severus, and I don’t think you can attach a spell like _that_ to a parcel. Go for it.”

Severus nodded and set about casting spell after spell on the bemused owl. Harry watched him work, entranced by his partner’s skill. Merlin, Severus was a hell of a wizard.

After several moments, Severus shook his head and put his wand away. “He is clean. There _was_ a spell attached, but it was a healing spell. As none of us are in need of healing, I have deactivated it in the event that something sinister I could not identify was lurking beyond it.”

“I don’t think a spell exists that you couldn’t identify.” Harry clutched at Severus’ arm. “Stay near me? This will probably hurt.”

“I will hold you in my lap, if you wish.”

Harry buried his face in Severus’ shoulder. “P-please.”

“Very well, pet. Come and let me hold you.”

Once they were settled with the parcel in hand and the owl fed with scraps from their breakfast, Harry opened the parcel with shaking hands.

Inside was a bottle of Essence of Dittany and a letter. Severus levitated the potion out with a spell and worked on scanning it while Harry read his letter. Well, what he _could_ read of it. Tears had blotted out several of the words.

  


> _Dear Harry,_
> 
> _Gods, are you okay? Are you … couldn’t tell from … paper how bad it was and Ron isn’t talking. I am so, so sorry. I just … you to know I didn’t approve of this idiocy. I never imagined he would be so terrible. I don’t recognise … man I thought I … in love with, and I … so sorry!_
> 
> _I don’t know … condition you’re in so I’ll keep it short, but know I love you as you are, and I … please forgive me. I’m so sorry._
> 
> _Hermione_

  


Harry folded the letter, heart aching and raw, tears streaking his cheeks. Severus kissed Harry’s temple and held him tight.

“Did she hurt you further, love?”

Harry passed the letter back to Severus, mind numb, heart bleeding. After a moment, Severus huffed and set the letter on the coffee table.

“It seems too little too late, don’t you think?”

Harry nodded and hugged his waist. “She’s still with him. That’s what’s wrong. After what he did to me, she’s still with him. So this apology … it means nothing. And a bottle of dittany?” He scoffed. “I had a broken _spine_. Fat lot of good that would’ve done.”

Fawkes trilled. _“I hope I have healed it.”_

Severus stroked a gentle hand up and down Harry’s back. “He is in good condition now, Fawkes, lacking only a need for rest and recovery time. I fear he would have been miserable for the rest of his life without your help. Thank you.”

The bird bowed and fluttered onto Harry’s shoulder. _“Companion, I believe your friend truly cares about you. The issue is that it is difficult to leave someone we love, even when we have seen they are not who we thought. In time, she will find her courage.”_

Harry petted the bird under his chin. “You might be right, but until she does, this means nothing. Until then, she can squirm.”

He stood, letter held between his thumb and forefinger, and set the parchment ablaze. A quick Banishing spell saved Harry’s fingers just before the fire burned him, and Harry settled beside Severus with a huff.

“Well, that’s done.”

Severus nodded. “Owl, there is no reply.”

The bird gave a mournful hoot and flew out of the post window—one Harry had warded to let in nothing but postal birds and air. Harry watched him go, his heart torn and aching.

“Harry, love,” Severus murmured into his ear, “is there anything I can do?”

Harry buried himself in Severus’ shoulder. “Just hold me.”

“Mm, that is no trouble. I find comfort in this as well.”

“Yeah. Your arms are safe. I think I’m most at home when—” A knock at the door interrupted him and Harry swore. “Damn it. We’re not to have a moment of peace all morning, are we?”

Severus chuckled and smoothed Harry’s mop. “It is only Draco, I think. And he is right on time.”

Harry sighed and opened the door with a flick of his wand. Draco stood at the door, along with Luna, Neville, and Padma.

“Hullo everyone,” Harry said in a dull voice.

“Well, aren’t you just a bright ray of sunshine this morning,” Draco said with a frown. He set a box down inside the door and moved into the living room. “There’s your stuff, so you’re ready to go, but Merlin. I’d have thought you’d be _happy_ to be starting over with Severus.”

Luna patted his shoulder. “Oh, he is, but he is also torn because he’s lost so many friends and so many others are confusing him.” She cocked her head at him. “Have you been neglecting your pumpkin juice, Harry? It keeps the nargles away, you know, and they have your brain tied up in knots right now.”

Harry chuckled. “Bit hard to drink much of anything beyond water when you’re fighting for your life, Lu.” He gave Severus a curious look. “Did you buy pumpkin juice, love?”

Severus snorted. “I did, though I must admit I had no other intention than supplying you with foods that you enjoy.”

Harry Summoned several bottles from the cold box—along with a tea tray and biscuits—and set the lot on his coffee table. Severus conjured seating for their guests, and everyone sat down, Padma and Luna ensconced on a single chaise and Neville holding Draco in his lap on an armchair.

“Now that we’re settled—” Neville raised his pumpkin juice for emphasis. “What happened this morning to upset you, Harry? You seemed optimistic when we left yesterday.”

“I ….” Harry sighed and leaned on his knees. “Hermione sent me a letter.”

“Hermione?” Padma’s eyes hardened. “What did she say?”

“Nothing terrible. She apologised and asked my forgiveness and such.”

Draco frowned. “And that has you upset?”

Harry gave a bitter laugh. “She’s still with him, isn’t she? What good is an apology when she’s still shagging the bloke who did his best to ruin my life? He outed me publically, ruined Parvati’s career, sabotaged me, brutalised me, and then set an entire mob on me and almost murdered me! If not for Fawkes, I’d have been permanently crippled.” He shook his head. “If she leaves him, then I’ll consider letting her back into my life. Maybe. But until then, I can’t risk it.”

Draco nodded sadly. “Fair enough. I’d advise you to stay away from her until she’s out of his clutches anyway. He’s too dangerous to you.”

Harry’s grief escaped in a strangled sound of pain, half mirthless laugh, half sob, and Severus caught him into his arms.

“I know, pet. I know you are suffering. If there is anything I can do, I am here.”

Luna took Harry’s hand. “We’re here too, Harry.”

Harry squeezed her fingers and shook himself out of his anguish. He could deal with the pain later, when there weren’t four extra pairs of eyes on him.

“I’m fine.”

Neville sighed. “Merlin, I hate that word when you use it, Harry.”

Harry winced. “Look, it’s just … I don’t want to fall apart right now. Can we leave it? Please?”

Draco nodded. “Fair enough. In that case, maybe some … possible good news will help?”

Harry frowned. “ _Possible_ good news? What is that supposed to mean?”

Draco chuckled wryly. “I’m just not sure how you’re going to take it.” He passed Harry a magazine. “Don’t curse the messenger.”

Harry shot him a glare before he scanned the cover. It was the Quibbler, and Ginny’s furious face dominated the cover.

“Oh Merlin.” He read the headline and his breath lodged in his throat.

####  Harry Potter’s Former Fiancée Tells All:  
Harry is innocent; Brother is Guilty of Libel and Attempted Murder

Harry’s heart lodged in his throat. “S-she … she’s defending me? But I thought ….”

“It turns out,” said Padma with a wry smile, “that Ginny _wasn’t_ angry about your choice of gender at all. She was just hacked off because you led her on so long. And she’s bloody well furious at Ron. She can’t get this published in the Prophet because they’re so homophobic, but in here—she denounced every one of his claims and called for the aurors to arrest him and those who aided him.”

Harry hugged his waist. “W-why didn’t she try to help me then? I mean after Ron and his idiot friends beat me up.”

Neville shrugged. “Well, she didn’t know where you were. She thought you would have gone to Hogwarts, so she checked there while we searched for your apparition trail. Then she started trying to get a notice out for you on the WWN, but she had trouble getting anyone to listen.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. He could have driven a lorry through the holes in that story.

Neville blushed and looked away. “It’s the truth. Really.”

“But the rest of the truth is that she didn’t think you’d want to see her,” Draco said with a shake of his head. “That’s why she left the search and healing up to us and handled the aurors herself. She’s still hacked off at you, but even then, I don’t think she’s angry enough to want you to die.”

Harry nodded and swallowed a wave of emotion. “That’s … good?” He clutched the magazine to his chest. “Um, c-can I—”

“Keep it?” Draco waved a hand. “Go ahead. Lu has plenty.”

Harry set the magazine on a nearby end table. “Thanks.” He sighed and laid his head in his hands. “I guess I really do owe her an apology. I should’ve told her, but ….”

“But you had every right to be terrified.” Severus stroked Harry’s curls, soothing him. “Pet, you did the best you could with what you had. Yes, I think you should apologise, but perhaps it is best to wait until we are sure it is safe. For now, perhaps a letter will suffice.”

“I’ll take it,” said Luna with a smile. “And I’ll explain why you’re sending your apology via the post.”

Harry winced. “Do you think I’m being a prat by writing her instead of telling her in person?”

“No.” Severus leaned over and kissed Harry’s shoulder. “You are being intelligent. It is far too dangerous to risk a meeting with anyone who has not already proven themselves at the moment. Particularly one who has a reason to be angry with you.” Severus scowled. “Though, to be fair, I believe you have reason to be angry with her as well. She did not handle her distress well at all.”

Harry shook his head. “Both of us made a lot of mistakes. I don’t mind being the first to apologise since it’s absolutely true that I led her on, at least for the past eight months or so. I didn’t understand my feelings before then.”

Severus smiled. “I am glad you understand them now.”

“Me too.” Harry sat and gave Severus a gentle kiss. “Well, I don’t want to monopolise what little time we have left. Draco, would you like to talk to Severus here? I can take the others out back if you’d like some time alone with your godfather.”

Severus vetoed him. “If Draco would like to speak with me alone, _we_ will go outside. You need to rest as much as possible, Harry. You are still recovering from a serious injury.”

Harry sighed. “All right. Just wanted to get a bit of fresh air.”

“I will take you to the shore as soon as we are settled. Will that do?”

Harry beamed. “That’s brilliant! I’ve never been to the sea.”

Severus chuckled. “Well, the Pacific Ocean is hardly a _sea_ , but it is quite lovely. And, even better, we are free to be ourselves in America. Though … we may need to make some small changes to your appearance unless you would like to keep your current identity.”

Harry frowned. “Love, am I going to be in trouble if I keep my identity?”

“In America?” Severus shrugged. “Those who follow politics will know who you are, but I do not believe the fame—or the notoriety—will be as much of a difficulty overseas. To Britain, you are a saviour—or a threat. To America, or at least our part of it, you are a foreign hero. Still worthy of respect, but not to the point that you will have people fawning all over you, should you wish to remain Harry Potter.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “What about you? Alone, you can probably pass yourself off as Sevano Meredith. With Harry Potter at your side, they’re going to start noticing the similarities between Sevano and Professor Snape.”

Severus smirked. “And well they should, as Sevano is his first cousin through his mother’s late sister.”

Harry hummed. “Did your mum actually have a sister? Someone really determined could look up your heritage.”

“An illegitimate half-sister, unfortunately. I have no claim to the Prince fortune, nor am I acknowledged at family gatherings. But disowning a man does nothing to alter his genetic makeup.”

Draco frowned. “Severus, I think he’s asking about records. Do you have actual birth information here? Family records? Anything to verify your story?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Do you truly believe I would assume a new identity without covering my arse first?”

Draco blushed. “Er … I suppose that was a stupid question.”

Severus chuckled. “I do not mind, as you were only trying to make sure I am safe.”

Draco nodded.

“To answer your question: yes, I have all the proper documentation and said illegitimate heiress actually exists, or did once, though she died at the age of twenty-one and left no record of children. It made for a convenient enough alibi.” Severus’ eyes filled with sorrow. “I never met her, so I do not know if she had actual heirs or not, but from what my mother could tell me of her, I understand she was not as ill-disposed towards me as the rest of the Prince clan. If my mother could have escaped Tobias for even a moment to introduce us, I imagine Aunt Aisling might have loved me as her own.”

Harry kissed Severus’ cheek and whispered in his ear, “I love you, angel. I adore you. And I think your aunt would be happy to cover for you, if she had lived long enough to be given the choice.”

Severus turned his head and kissed Harry lightly. “Thank you, pet.”

Harry smiled. “It’s just the truth, Sev.”

“Hmm. It heals me, nonetheless.” Severus sighed and turned back to his godson. “Albus established this identity for me long ago, about five years after I turned spy and we realised the ex-Dark Lord wasn’t truly dead. He even published some of my potions findings under Sevano’s name so I would have some kind of livelihood when I needed to run, assuming I survived. The Wolfsbane potion, for example. He feared no one would take it if a Death Eater had invented it.”

Severus stared out the window, eyes full of grief. “Albus thought of everything to give me a comfortable life in my new home.” He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists. “However, I am unsure that I will ever recover from what he asked of me in return.”

Harry held Severus’ hand and kissed his fingers. “I’m with you, Severus.”

“I know, pet.” Severus hugged Harry’s shoulders gently. “What will you do about your name?”

Harry smiled wryly. “I think it’s a bad idea to stay who I am. The San Francisco papers might publish my location, and if someone from Britain sees it, especially if they manage to take a photo of us together, well, there goes any peace for either of us. No, it’s better to be someone no one but you cares about.”

“Fair enough. Then we shall change your appearance just enough to offer you some anonymity and your name. What would you like?”

Harry barely resisted the urge to mutter, _‘Meredith, eventually,’_ and instead said, “Um, how about … Harold? Then you could still call me Harry but it wouldn’t be my real name, so to speak.” He frowned. “I have no idea what to do for the rest.”

“For a middle name,” offered Luna, “why not honour your loved ones? Those who stood by you.”

Harry smiled. “Good idea. Know a name for a guy that means moon? That way I could honour you and Remus in one shot.”

Severus chuckled. “Janus is the name of a moon.”

Harry shot him a look. “As that one is already taken, I doubt that’s going to help me.”

Severus snorted. “No, probably not. Oberon?”

“Not terrible but definitely sounds too wizarding for a Muggleborn, which was my idea.”

“Stick to being half-blood,” said Draco with a shake of his head. “Safer for you both.”

“All right, Oberon then. But what about the last name? I’m not doing Black. Sev couldn’t stand that name. And honestly, after learning what kind of man Sirius was to Severus, I don’t think I want it anyway.”

“You couldn’t get away with using it without bringing loads of trouble onto your head anyway,” said Neville with a shake of his head. “No famous pureblood names. Which means you can’t use Malfoy, Longbottom, Prince, Black, Potter, or anything along those lines.”

“Just take a Muggle name,” said Draco with a shrug. “Say your father was the Muggle. That way you won’t be asked to prove you belong to this family or that one, particularly since no one will know which line if your mum abandoned you when she realised the truth about your dad.”

“Or I could just say they’re both dead from the war.” Harry shuddered. “I don’t like this. I don’t like lying this much. Someone could find out and we’d both be in it up to our necks.”

“Then your only other option is to change your appearance enough to blend in, alter your last name, and keep the same history,” said Severus. “If you simply say you’ve lost both of your parents and don’t like talking about them, it should be enough to keep most of the prying public at bay. And, for those who don’t know how to mind their own business, I am quite handy with a wandless _Obliviate_.”

Draco gave Severus a horrified look. “W-wandless? Dear gods, you’re frightening.”

Severus chuckled. “If you knew how often I’ve used it ….”

Draco gulped. “Um, maybe you shouldn’t tell me. My memory has enough holes in as is.”

Harry frowned. “You’ve been _Obliviated_? Often?”

“I was forced to live under the Dark Lord’s non-existent nose, Harry. I heard his plans more often than not. Did you think he let me _keep_ those memories?”

Harry winced. “Merlin. Sorry, Draco.”

Draco waved him off. “It’s nothing. But what are you going to do about your name?”

Harry ruffled his hair. “Well, I think I’ll keep what we have so far. Sev hates the name James anyway. Still don’t know what to do about the last name though.”

“I suppose you could simply take your mother’s last name,” Severus said with a sigh. “Though it is certainly not the most secure option, it will probably be the only one you can stomach.”

 _‘I can think of one more I’d like.’_ Harry frowned. “I’ll take it, if it’s safe. If I keep my past under wraps and change my looks a bit, that should be enough, shouldn’t it?”

“I certainly hope so,” Severus said with a shiver. “For now, let us just ….”

A few flicks of his wand and Harry had hair down to the middle of his back—the sudden weight startled him—a few umber highlights in his raven-black locks, and different glasses. He took them off and found himself holding silver, oval frames instead of his trademark black, round ones. Harry shrugged and put them back on.

“I am glad your scar has faded,” Severus murmured, running a fingertip along Harry’s forehead. “I do not know of a way other than Muggle makeup to cover curse scars, and it is not reliable.”

“With a new wardrobe,” Draco said with a smirk, “he’ll look like a new person. That means no more baggy clothes, by the way. Buy something that actually _fits_ you.”

Harry flushed. “It’s just, I’ve never had clothes that fit and I’m not used to it.”

“Get used to it. Even with those changes, your baggy clothing makes you stand out. You’ll draw too much attention.”

Harry sighed. “All right, all right. Are we finished then?”

Severus nodded. “I will not alter your face nor your eyes. You would not be you then. And I find I … I do not want your face to change.”

Harry smiled and kissed Severus lightly. “Then I guess we’re done.”

Severus nodded. “Draco, Longbottom, can you see to it that Percy creates paperwork for Harry’s new identity? Perhaps there will be a relative on the Evans side he can claim as his father if absolutely necessary.”

Draco nodded. “I’ll look into it. If there’s no one available, I can always make him out to be an illegitimate Malfoy heir and claim he took his mother’s surname as his father didn’t want to be associated with the dark aspects of our family.”

“Perfect,” said Harry with a grin. “As long as Daddy Dearest isn’t Lucius. No offence, Draco, but that man was bad enough having one son.”

“None taken. He’s terrible.” Draco rubbed his chin in thought. “Hmm. I know of a cousin who died young. Fath—Lucius used to rant about him all the time when I was little. If I recall, he was disowned from the Malfoy name for being sorted into Hufflepuff and was later taken in by the parents of a Muggleborn classmate. I believe he took a Muggle wife before he died—her name isn’t on record, as far as I know, as it was done in the Muggle fashion and left to live in the Muggle world with her. They did actually die in the early years of the war, what with him being a _blood traitor_ and all.” He sneered at the term.

“Anyway, if you assumed the Malfoy name, you could act as though they were your parents. Then you mightn’t need to take an alias too easily associated with your past and you’d have a relatively solid alibi.”

Harry pointed to his hair. “Do I need to go blonde?”

Draco laughed. “Dear Merlin, no. I can’t imagine you with blonde hair. No, the white blonde mane is only genetic to my particular line of Malfoys. The rest of them have an array of colours. You’re fine with dark hair.”

Harry grinned. “So my name is Harold Oberon Malfoy then?”

“Yes,” said Neville with a grin. “And the wizarding name works perfectly with that kind of heritage. You’ll be golden with that mix.”

“Not to mention we probably _are_ actual cousins somewhere down the line,” said Draco with a shrug. “Purebloods tend to mingle more than they should. And before you ask, no, Neville and I aren’t anywhere near closely enough related to worry about it, even if we _could_ have children together.”

Harry huffed. “I’m not _that_ clueless, thank you very much. That would be a question Ron would have asked, not me.” He winced. “Well, if he hadn’t turned out to be such an arsehole.”

Draco gave him a sympathetic look—it jarred Harry a bit to see such an expression on his former rival’s face. “Well, now that we know your identity and lineage, I’ll make sure Percy gets the papers made up and backdates everything. So you’re good to go, Harry.”

Harry gave him a wry smile. “Thanks, cousin.” He kissed Severus softly. “Now that we’re done here, go talk to Draco. I know he’s missed you badly. I’ll be fi— _all right_ with the others while you’re busy.”

Severus ran a gentle hand through Harry’s longer hair and rubbed his cheek. “You are sure?”

“Yes, love. We’ll spend some time chatting and catching up.”

“Very well. I will return soon then.”

Harry kissed Severus’ hand before he walked away with his godson in tow. He watched them go, and turned to find his friends smiling at him.

“He’s … wow,” said Neville with a grin. “He’s really changed.”

“He’s happy now,” Harry said in a soft voice. “He can be who he really was under all those masks. And he’s not alone any longer either.”

Luna smiled. “Happiness looks lovely on you both.”

Harry grinned. “Thanks, Lu.”

  


* * *

  


Severus led Draco to a small garden with a swinging double seat. The garden had just come into full bloom, and the back lawn was a riot of colour as a result. Besides the common offerings one might find in a garden and a selection of cooking herbs, Severus found his eyes drawn to certain plants. Each had a pot and a position of honour among the flowers. Memorials, he realised with a start. In them, Severus read Harry’s love for those gone to the war.

Lily had a pot full of stargazers and callas and bright red carnations beneath. Potter’s pot bore a trellis of red and gold hollyhocks and callas at the bottom. Lupin had a pot of moonflowers—closed now—and blazing morning glories in a lovely shade of indigo. Lupines decorated the base. Black had red dogroses and brilliant blue geraniums. Tonks’, set beside Lupin’s, had a mix of everyone’s, and a brilliant purple butterfly bush blooming behind it.

Each memorial told a story of love for the lost, each one fit the personality of Harry’s loved ones well.

But one stood in a corner all of its own, one Severus could not immediately match with a name. He moved to it, drawn by the unusual mix of flora and the sound of a tinkling wind chime. In a stone pot, white asphodel, wolfsbane, and vervain spread beneath a rosebush with striking violet-black blooms. Severus gave the wolfsbane a wide berth, toxic as it was, but touched one of the black roses with a frown. Who had inspired this eulogy?

Draco’s voice startled him out of his musing. “He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

Severus’ breath hitched. Dear gods, this was a eulogy to _his_ memory! Potions ingredients, black roses, white lilies—Harry had made this for _Severus_ , to honour his life.

If he had needed further evidence of Harry’s love for him, he had just found it.

Severus stepped back and covered his mouth lest he make some sound as embarrassing as a sob. “Oh.” He covered his eyes too, but it was no use. Draco knew he was overcome.

“Merlin, Severus. Come here.” Draco gave him a tight hug and rubbed his back. “Hey, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“Y-yes.” Severus pulled back and wiped his eyes discreetly. “Thank you. I … I simply … I cannot understand why he feels this way.”

Draco laughed wryly. “Happens sometimes, doesn’t it? I never imagined I’d find myself head over heels for _Longbottom_ of all people, but there you are. He’s been good to me though, so I can’t complain.” He gave his godfather a piercing look. “And I daresay happiness has been good for you.”

Severus nodded and smiled softly. “It has. And I am … overjoyed to find this sort of gift in him.” He traced a gentle fingertip over velvet-black petals. “I came here expecting a struggle. That I would need to convince him to come home with me for his own safety. Instead, Harry had agreed almost before he was conscious. I had only to mention it, and he was ready to leave. Might have apparated then, if he hadn’t been in pieces at the time.”

Draco’s expression turned dark. “That bastard Weasley. The lot of them—they’re all bastards. If you wondered why there’s a blood feud between our families, there you go.”

Severus shook his head. “Not all of them. It seems Ginevra only wanted to be treated fairly—though she handled their relationship problems terribly—and Charlie has done nothing to harm Harry. And Percy—well, he tore himself away from his family so that we all might have a hope for a better future.”

Draco sighed. “Right. Can’t lump Percy in with that lot. He’s done his bit.” He frowned. “Wait, didn’t Harry say Percy had sent you a letter?”

Severus hummed and let the rose he’d been petting go. “He did indeed. He offered Harry his apologies for his behaviour in the past and opened the doors for an alliance.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “There’s something else you’re not saying.”

“Yes. He did not provide much in the way of details, but he mentioned rumours of an underground movement forming against the pureblood biases.”

Draco stiffened. “A movement? Severus, maybe it’s just because you and I just escaped the worst kind of hell, but that … that alarms me.”

“Yes. It put Harry and myself on edge too. I wonder how many people here know that the former Dark Lord’s regime started as such a group.”

“I have no idea, but I reckon not a quarter of the fools going to meet there would.”

“And their leader _might_ , which is all the more worrisome.” Severus hugged his arms and shivered. “Well, as of now, it is only a peaceful meeting between like-minded people. Still, I would feel better if we had experienced eyes on them. Harry and I are done playing hero for a country who does not welcome us, but neither do I wish to see our loved ones suffer.”

Draco nodded, his expression grim. “So I’ll be going in for you then. And honestly, if they’re aiming for purebloods … well, maybe it’s best that Neville, Percy, and I make it clear we’re on their side of the argument from the beginning, just in case it _does_ go south.”

“Hmm. There is wisdom in that, however, do take note from my example. The Death Eaters did so love abusing me for my half-Muggle ancestry. If this movement turns against purebloods in general ….”

“We could all three become victims either way.” Draco shuddered. “Is there room in San Francisco for three more gays should the shite hit the fan here?”

Severus laughed. “Not in my flat! But there are others available in the area, should you choose to relocate. I imagine Harry would be happy to have you near.”

Draco chuckled. “Well, then I’ll keep that in mind.”


	10. New World, Old Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : More Ron bashing. He's a bad guy here, people, so expect that. Summary: Harry and Severus are finally making a new life in San Francisco, but Harry's ghosts follow him there. He has to put the past behind him before he can embrace his future._

##  **Chapter 10**

* * *

_New World, Old Troubles_

### June 24, 1999

After a couple days of sightseeing and getting acquainted with his new town, Harry knew he would love San Francisco. With his scar faded and his appearance altered just enough to blend in with the local youth, no one took any notice of him. He hadn’t realised how much it had stressed him to have to constantly look over his shoulder for Death Eaters wannabes or overeager fans until he no longer had a need to. Thank Merlin, at least he could go to the local café for a cuppa without it being headline news.

Gods, it felt good to be so free. So _normal_. Not the hero, not the chosen one, and not the scourge of Britain—just a normal young man in a normal town, going about his blissfully normal life.

And having Severus at his side made it feel almost like heaven.

Almost.

The only trouble was Harry’s lingering grief about everything he had left behind. If he could heal from the nightmares, the moments of deep sorrow, and the crushing loss of his friends and family, he would have the perfect life, but the pain crept up on him when he was least expecting it.

Like that moment, when he woke up to an empty bed and panic instantly settled in. Had Severus abandoned him too?

“ _Severus_!”

“Harry, what’s the matter?” Severus called from the living room, concerned, but _still there_ , and Harry clambered out of bed to join his partner.

Severus sat on the sofa, his eyes full of worry and shadows creeping in around the edges. He had a pot of steaming coffee and bagels before him and a tray of condiments, complete with butter and cream cheese. The smell comforted Harry and made him feel at home.

“Sorry, love. I’m okay.” Harry curled into Severus’ side and poured a cup for himself. “Ah, do you mind if I share?”

Severus chuckled wryly. “You have already helped yourself. But I did make enough to feed you as well, I hope.”

“Hey now, I’m not a bottomless pit like ….” Harry choked himself off and set the coffee down, struggling to keep a sudden surge of grief in check.

Severus rubbed the young man’s back. “Are you well?”

“Yeah.” Harry pushed down his pain and dropped some milk and sugar into his coffee. “I’m fine. Why are you up?”

For an answer, Severus pointed to the clock above the mantle. Harry frowned until he realised it was after eleven.

“Merlin! I really slept in.”

Severus gave him a wan smile. “It is to be expected, given that you had nightmares half the night.”

Harry winced and lowered his head. “I’m sorry. I … I’m really trying. It still hurts.”

Severus wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist and pulled him into the older man’s side. “Ssh. There is nothing to apologise for, pet. You have left behind everything. Nearly everyone you ever loved. Of course it will hurt.” He tipped Harry’s chin up, meeting the younger man’s eyes. “But are you healing? Or have I brought you too far from home to recover?”

Harry gave him a warm smile. “I’m healing. It’s Ron that hurts the most. I trusted him with everything, and … and he was nothing like I thought. The other Weasleys too. They were my family.” He set his coffee down again and hugged his chest, trying to hold in his pain. “How many times do you think a man can lose his entire family and stay sane?” He dared not mention the fears that would not stop haunting him, but Severus saw through his masks.

“You will not lose your family again.” Severus kissed Harry’s forehead and held him tight. “No matter what happens, Harry, even if our romantic relationship goes south, you will _not_ lose me. I will never abandon you.”

A choked sob escaped Harry’s control and he buried his face in Severus’ throat. “S-sorry. I shouldn’t—don’t want to be too clingy, but … but I ….”

“You are frightened. Given everything you have endured, Harry, I think you are doing well.”

Severus kissed Harry with affection and gave him a soft smile. “I had planned on going to work today, but I think I will simply take you by the college instead. That is, if you do not mind making a quick detour at the wizarding hospital. I am dreadfully overdue to meet with my superior there.”

Harry winced. “I’m keeping you from doing your job.”

“No, love. I am on sabbatical at the University until late August, and I am not an official employee of the hospital. I do my medical research on my own time. It is only that they tend to worry when I go for several days without checking in. And, as I have said before, I will soon be taking a course in mediwizardry as well as Muggle medicine, so it is to my benefit to stay on good terms with those who would be my instructors.”

“Still, you can’t even leave the house without me losing the plot.” Harry shivered and pushed Severus back. “No. I _have_ to get used to this again. I _have_ to trust you.”

Severus cupped Harry’s face. “There is time to heal first, Harry. As I said, I have two months before I must return to work at the university and I am not required to visit the hospital.”

Harry hugged his waist. “But what happens when you don’t show up at the hospital? Are people dying because I’m taking you away from your work?”

“No. There are, perhaps, cases that may have been delayed, but in cases of emergent need, both the Muggle and wizarding hospitals know how to contact me.”

“But people are suffering because of me. I—”

Severus took Harry’s face in his hands and kissed him firmly. “Harry, listen to me. Even if something does happen at the hospital, _you_ are my priority now. I will not abandon you.”

“But, Severus, what about the patients?”

Severus looked into Harry’s eyes, his expression hopelessly sad. “Pet, your whole life has been about everyone but you, hasn’t it?”

Harry frowned. “I … I don’t ….”

“It has been. All your life, you have been shunted aside for this or that. First, your relatives turned you into a house elf because they hated your magic. Then you became the hero and everyone else’s needs became more important than your own. Then you dated a woman who, for all that she has done to counter the Prophet and Weasley’s continued abuse of you, is still remarkably self-centred. She pressured you into a level of commitment you were not comfortable with and lashed out at you when it backfired. And, to even maintain a semblance of relationship with this woman, you had to deny your needs, your hopes and dreams, and pretend to be what everyone else wanted you to be.

“But I … maybe not Ginny, but the war—I h-had to help them.”

“No.” Severus kissed Harry’s forehead. “No, you did not have to. You could have made your own way and told us all to go to hell, and I would not have blamed you. Instead, you placed the needs of everyone else above your own.”

“Severus, people would have died! People I l-loved—they would have—”

“And those people hurt you, Harry! Consistently!”

Severus’ cry rang out like a shot in the quiet room. Harry stared at him, confused and hollow inside. Did Severus really mean he shouldn’t have fought in the war?

“I had to … Severus, I couldn’t just let them die.”

Severus sighed and eased Harry back into his arms. “I am sorry. I was not saying you should have turned your back on them, nor did I mean to remind you of your losses. You did well to save them and it was a wonderful sacrifice. I am proud of everything you have done.” He kissed Harry’s forehead and cradled him close. “I only meant that you _had_ a choice, and you still chose to die to save them all, people who called you a deserter and undesirable number one and who denied your right to be who you are, all while balancing the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Harry sniffled and laid his head on Severus’ shoulder. “O-okay. But why? Why do you say I had a choice? It really wasn’t much of one. Die myself or let everyone else die. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”

Severus kissed Harry’s forehead. “I know. I am not trying to say that you made the wrong decision. It is only that I am worried about you. The war is over now, but you are still laying your needs aside for everyone else—even those who care nothing for you—just as you did when you died to ensure the Dark Lord never rose again.”

“I ….” Harry stared at his feet, raw and blasted open. Severus was right, but what else could he do? Was he supposed to just step aside and let people suffer so he could be happy?

A gentle hand slipped under his chin. “Look at me, love.”

Harry forced his eyes to meet his partner’s. Tears rimmed Severus’ eyes, sticking between his long lashes and gathering volume.

“My Harry, do you not know how wonderful and beautiful and worthy you are?”

Eyes wide, Harry shook his head wildly. “No. I … I’m not! I’m just—”

Severus’ tears dropped, but he ignored them in favour of cradling Harry’s face. “You _are_ beautiful. You are brave. You are intelligent and honest and pure, and the most self-sacrificing man I know. You are worth my time and my care.”

Tears blinded him. “But if people are suffering—”

“Harry, _you_ are suffering.” Severus cradled his partner’s face in gentle hands. “You are so very brave, always smiling for me and seeking the joy in life again, but I see your tears. I hear you scream at night when the past overwhelms you. I feel your anguish every time you start to mention your former friends and cut yourself off, as if the mere words are poison.”

He kissed away a stream of tears and held Harry close. “It has only been three days. You have lost everything but me and a few scattered friends and acquaintances, and have started life over from scratch. That you need me near you still is neither a surprise nor a bother.”

Harry stifled sobs and buried his face in Severus’ chest. “M’sorry. S-should be stronger.”

“Ssh. You have spent your entire life being strong for everyone else. You have spent every moment placing your needs aside to save people who, in the end, did nothing to save you. I will not allow you to do so any longer. I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for strangers.” Severus kissed the top of Harry’s head and held him tight. “You are my partner now, and I wish to see you happy and healthy once more. To that end, I will teach you to love yourself as much as you love those who do not deserve it.”

Harry lifted a shaking hand to cup Severus’ cheek. “And those who do.”

Severus kissed his palm. “Yes. I believe if I can teach you to love yourself as much as you love me, then we shall both be content.”

Harry sniffled and snuggled close. “Severus, do you love yourself now?”

Severus frowned. “Hmm. I am not sure I am where I should be, but I believe I have made progress towards that end.”

“How? I know you were miserable during the war, so how did you do it?”

Severus brushed his hand through Harry’s hair. “Finding something I was good at and loved to do helped. Seeing how my skills helped others—it gave me the confidence to see myself as worthy of love.” He sighed and laid his head atop his partner’s. “Were it not for that, I am not sure I would have been able to believe you when you said you loved me.”

Harry leaned back and gave Severus a hesitant smile. “S-so if I start learning my trade, it might help?”

“Yes, I believe so. And, I hope, having me will help too.” Severus held Harry’s face and caressed his cheeks. “When you are weak, when you fail, when you think you are unworthy, I will be here to lift you back onto your feet and hold you in my arms. Will you do the same for me, love? I have my dark moments too.”

Harry blinked a different sort of tears back and nodded. “Always, my Sev.”

Severus kissed Harry lightly. “Thank you.” He moved back and gave the man a soft smile. “Are you feeling better?”

“Y-yeah. Still feel pretty guilty, but … but maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ve given too much. I feel like there’s nothing left, you know? Like the well is dry.”

“If you are broken, you cannot heal others.” Severus slipped his hand into Harry’s. “But I will help you. And we might still stop by the hospital, if you are truly so concerned. I would like you to see what I do.”

Harry frowned. “A wizarding hospital, love? They’ll recognise me. And then they’ll recognise you.”

Severus frowned. “Perhaps polyjuice then?”

“Yeah, that’ll work.” Harry shot Severus a wry look. “You just keep that stuff on hand for fun, don’t you?”

Severus snorted. “A spy must have something with which to entertain himself. And, as it happens, I believe I have the perfect identity for you. But first, let us take some time to visit the university in your proper shape. I believe you mentioned wishing to hold my hand there?”

Harry grinned. “Stake my claim, you mean.”

“Precisely. I intend to use your affections to ward off hordes of slavering students.”

Harry laughed. “Shouldn’t you take me when class is actually in session then?”

Severus sighed. “Ah, damn. I’d forgotten that little detail. Oh well. Perhaps we might simply explore the campus instead?”

Harry beamed. “I’d like that.”

“Go get dressed then, and we shall make a day of it.”

Heart lighter, Harry went.

  


* * *

  


While Harry showered and dressed for their date, Severus scanned the Prophet and the Quibbler for mentions of his lover. The Quibbler was no surprise—Draco, Percy, Harry, and Severus himself had planned for the article on his disappearance to run that morning.

####  Harry Potter Missing! Hatred and Bigotry Drives a Hero from His Home

“Good work, Lovegood,” Severus said with satisfaction.

The article wouldn’t have as much impact as whatever tripe the Prophet published—most still regarded the Quibbler as a sensationalist tabloid, after all—but it _would_ make an impact. Ever since Britain had caught on that Harry published articles in the magazine when the Prophet couldn’t be trusted, the Quibbler’s sales had skyrocketed. Xenophilius had taken on ten new employees just to deal with the increased workload, and sales had only gone up since Harry’s outing according to Luna. Severus wasn’t positive if the sales had come from youth who picked up the magazine out of disgust with the Prophet’s blatant homophobia, or if interest in Harry himself had simply gone up, but either way, exposing more people to the truth couldn’t hurt.

If only he could convince Luna to stop sandwiching Harry’s stories between articles like “Hunting for Hinkywinkies” and “How Pinkletoads Invaded Hogwarts,” they might have a chance of swaying the British public to the truth. Of course, the latter story had been a clever satire outlining Umbridge’s takeover during Harry’s fifth year, but given the content of the rest of the magazine, it had proven a bit _too_ clever for most.

Well, it was a start, Severus supposed. He laid the Quibbler aside and flicked open the Prophet.

His stomach lurched at the headlines. Merlin help him, Harry would be in pieces after this.

####  Boy-Who-Lived Abandons Britain! Broken-hearted Best Friend Tells All

“Best friend indeed,” Severus snarled. “More like murderous lump.”

With a deep breath to calm his rising temper, Severus forced himself to read.

He made it through three paragraphs before his accidental magic set the paper ablaze.

“That bad, huh?”

Severus looked up to find Harry standing at the entrance to the bedroom, dressed in only his denims and drying his hair with a towel. Severus Banished the mess and motioned him over.

“Yes indeed. I find myself loath to tell you.”

Harry winced. “Severus, please don’t hide things from me.”

“I had no intentions of doing so; I merely feared to ruin our plans for the day.” Severus guided the young man to sit in his lap. “I thought I might tell you tonight instead.”

Harry shook his head. “Then I’ll just be worrying about it all day. Might be best to get it over with, have my breakdown, and then have our trip. Maybe make it a lunch date.”

“Hmm. I can see the wisdom in that.” Severus wrapped Harry in his arms and hugged him close. “You recall we reported you missing in the Quibbler today?”

Harry nodded.

“So did the Prophet. Only they have spun it as their dear pet hero has been tainted by the evils of homosexuality and has turned his back on his people as a result.” Severus scowled. “The bastards tried to act like concerned, loving people whom you abandoned in their hour of need.”

Harry gaped. “They … how can they? No one will buy it, right? I mean, last week they were decrying me as the spawn of all things evil and leaving me to die in gutters, and now they’re suddenly all caring and heartbroken over me? Bollocks.”

Severus gave a harsh laugh. “Harry, some, yes, who will remember their previous stories and see the dichotomy, but most simply believe whatever they are fed. Would that I could say this will pull the rug out from under the Prophet, but it will not.”

Harry sighed. “Well, it’s no worse than we expected, really. It’s not that bad.”

Severus gave him a pained look. “Love, there is more. It wa—”

Green flames burst to life in the fireplace and made both men jump.

“Harry, Se-Sevano? Are you there?”

“Draco?” Thank Merlin he had had the sense to use Severus’ alias, but Merlin! Something was wrong.

Severus swallowed a wave of foreboding and set Harry on his feet. He knelt before the fireplace and helped Harry to kneel beside him, but froze when he went to speak. Draco had dark circles under his eyes and his complexion was ashen. He looked terrible.

“Dear gods,” Severus breathed. “What has happened, Dragon?”

Draco shuddered. “It’s Nev.”

Harry paled. “What’s wrong?”

“He … he’s in hospital. He’ll be okay, but ….” Draco scrubbed tears from his face. “It’s just, have you seen the Prophet yet?”

Severus nodded. “Thanks to Miss Lovegood’s floo delivery service, I am actually up to date on Britain’s news. I was just telling Harry about the front page article when you called, however, I did not have a chance to read the rest of the paper before my anger sent it up in flames.”

Draco snorted. “Good thing you didn’t read the rest then or you might have burned down the flat.”

Severus winced. “How bad?”

The boy took a deep breath. “Right. Well, let me tell you what actually happened before you get the Prophet’s twisted version. Harry, you remember you let Nev stay in your flat?”

Harry nodded. “Thought he’d be safer there.”

“Would have been, had Granger’s owl not led the Weasel right to it.”

Harry reeled. “What? Oh my gods.”

“Yeah.” Draco sniffled and hugged his chest. “You two got out of there just in time. Nev hadn’t been settled for half an hour before Weasel, Cormac McLaggen, and Ernie MacMillan showed up looking for Harry.”

Harry swayed as if the floor had vanished beneath him. Severus caught him before he could fall into the fire and held him tight.

Severus’ voice was low and lethal. “What did those traitorous dunderheads do?”

Draco’s face twisted in pain. “They … they assumed since Nev was there, he was in league with Harry. They beat him to a pulp and outed him to the Prophet. Augusta has already disowned him, and he’s … he’s … so hurt. He’s lost all his family and I … I don’t know what to do.”

Severus had never seen Draco so distraught. “Dragon, can you come through?”

Draco winced. “Not sure I’m up to an international floo ride right now. I haven’t slept since the attack and I’d probably break something vital on the way, with the state that I’m in at the moment.”

Severus ached to take the tiredness and grief from his godson’s eyes. “I dislike seeing you so distraught. I … I would like to help.”

“Just … tell me how to help _him_. You’re doing wonders with Harry—just, what do I do? How do I keep him sane?”

Harry reached through the floo for Draco’s hand. “Hold him. Kiss him. Don’t shy away from him. Stand by him even if it means you lose, too. Even if you’re outed, stay by his side. Let him know you’re in this together. And if all else fails, pack him up and come here, and we’ll all just heal each other.”

Tears slipped down Draco’s cheeks. “I … I’m scared.”

“I know. You’re not alone, though. If it gets too bad, we’ll keep you safe. We’ll help you get on your feet again.”

Severus nodded. “We will.” He reached through and rubbed tears from Draco’s face. “It will be all right, Draco. Hold him and let him know he comes first in your world. Stand by him and be strong. You will be all right.”

Draco wiped his face and nodded. “T-thanks. I … I’ll do that.” He sighed and shook himself, and after a moment to catch his breath, soon looked more like the impish boy Severus loved. “Now, there is one other thing you should know, Sevano. Percy looked into this underground group. Their first meeting is next Friday. Percy, Nev, and I are all going, assuming Nev is able to by then. We’ll let you know what happens.”

Severus gave him a curt nod. “Be careful.”

“We will. I had best get back to Nev, though. Lu’s with him now, but I don’t want to leave him for long. I’m afraid those healers might try to slip him something.”

Severus paused. “They could, and I doubt the Wizengamot would punish them. Wait here.” As soon as he finished speaking, he leapt to his feet and raced to his stores. A moment later, he dashed back to the floo and passed a phial of silvery liquid through. “That is a liquid bezoar. Should anything happen, give that to him and he should pull through. If he does not improve immediately, grab him and bring him here.”

Draco clutched the potion and gave Severus a tearful nod. “T-thank you. I’ll keep it safe.”

“Yes. Keep your love safe as well.”

“I will.” Draco stood and bid them farewell. “Thanks. Both of you. I think we’ll be okay now.”

Harry nodded. “Lock Ron and all the DA members who haven’t proven themselves out of my wards, and the flat should be safe again. The password is Spruce grove.”

“Spruce grove?”

“I died and was given a second chance in a grove of spruce trees. It means something to me.”

Draco gave Harry a searching look. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Go to Neville, Draco. He needs you. And let him know Sevano and I are here for you both if anything happens.”

“I will. Thanks. I better hurry.”

The connection died and the fire disappeared, leaving the hearth empty again. Harry sniffled and turned into Severus’ shoulder.

“Is it ever going to end?”

Severus stroked Harry’s hair. “I believe so, pet. I have to believe it.”

“Maybe … can we stay here today? I want to be around in case Neville takes a turn.”

Severus nodded. “The hospital can wait one more day.”

Harry buried his face in Severus’ neck and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”

“I am here, pet. Let’s get off the floor, though. Fancy a game of chess?”

Harry laughed weakly. “You just want to pulverise me again. We’ve played twice and your pieces already groan the second they see my face.”

Severus chuckled and stood. “Well, practise makes perfect. Or better, at least.”

Harry let his lover pull him to his feet. “I could practise for years and still not catch up to you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’ve years to practise then.”

Harry gave him a hesitant smile. “Really?”

Severus cupped his face. “I will not abandon you.”

Harry’s smile brightened. “Okay. Let’s go play chess then.”

“Yes, that’s what I was saying.”

Harry laughed and followed Severus to their chessboard.

Severus let him win.

  


* * *

  


Later that day, after Fawkes returned from a fly and seeking out his breakfast, Harry composed a letter for the last remaining member of his former trio. Each word ripped the heart from him, but it had to be done. Ron had proved himself to be a lethal threat, and Harry could no longer trust Hermione as long as she trusted the traitorous bastard.

  


> _Hermione,_
> 
> _Your boyfriend tracked your owl to my former flat and almost killed Neville when he found him there. At this point, if you can stay with a man like that, then I don’t think I know you at all. He’s a menace, and once he runs out of former friends to half-murder, then I don’t doubt for a moment he’ll come after you. Especially if he finds out you’ve been owling me behind his back._
> 
> _After today, that will stop. Until I receive word that you’re out of his clutches for good, your owl will be warded from my location, wherever that may be. Don’t try to get around them, for both of our sakes. As of now, your choice in partners has put my life and the life of my friends in danger._
> 
> _And as long as that is true, as long as you make your bed with the man who almost killed me and one of my best friends, an apology means nothing._
> 
> _Don’t try to write me again until you learn to see sense. Please._
> 
> _Harry_

  


Harry stared at his finished letter, his heart aching with the fact that sending it would cut the last of his trio from his life. Could he really do this? He had to—letting Hermione continue to owl him while she stayed with Ron would get him killed—but could he do it, knowing he would lose the last close friend he had left?

Severus rubbed Harry’s shoulder and murmured, “You are not alone.”

“She’s … the last of our team, you know? The last of those closest to me, other than Nev, and I was never as close to Neville as I should’ve been. I … I don’t know if I can do this.”

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist from behind and kissed his cheek. “I know, love, but remember: it may not be forever, Harry. She has seen that he is cruel to you. In time, she may find the strength to leave. Perhaps seeing that he has hurt Longbottom too will be enough to convince her.”

“I hope so,” Harry said in a small voice.

“So do I.” Severus nuzzled his ear. “Whatever happens, my Harry, you will have me. We will build a life here, and you will soon have new friends.”

“Not like this, Severus. None that have stood by me during war. No friendship will ever be like this.”

“Perhaps not, love, but they will still be good.” Severus squeezed him tight. “As you told Draco, I will stand by you. For better or worse, I am yours.”

Emotions choking him, Harry could only nod. He turned into his lover and kissed him, seeking comfort in the warmth of his lips, the gentle brush of his tongue. Severus kissed Harry’s forehead as they broke apart.

“You are strong, Harry. And I am here for you.”

Harry sighed and hugged him tight. “I never would have made it through without you.” He turned and beckoned Fawkes. “Come, friend. As much as I hate to do this, it must be done.”

The phoenix landed on Harry’s arm with a trill. _“She will come around.”_

Harry gave him a wan smile. “I hope you’re right. Can you deliver this discreetly? No flamboyant flashes of flames—just sneak it in while she’s alone? Make sure Ron is _nowhere near_ her and cover your trail as best as you can.”

Fawkes nodded. _“I will travel several other places before returning home on the off chance that he sees me.”_

“Thank you. Be careful.”

Fawkes took the letter, nuzzled Harry’s cheek, then Severus’, and vanished in a burst of fire.

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence,” Harry muttered.

Severus chuckled. “Phoenixes aren’t capable of apparating without the flames, but he is used to secret missions. He will apparate somewhere relatively close to her home and fly in under cover of night, then fly away while everyone is still sleeping before trying to apparate again. It’s the only way a phoenix can operate discreetly.” He rubbed his chin. “Perhaps we should purchase an owl.”

“You can. I can’t bear the thought of a new owl, not after Hedwig. She was my friend.”

“In time, it will be easier, but with Fawkes, you have little need of one regardless.”

“True.” Harry sniffled and leaned back into Severus’ arms. “I’m glad phoenixes are immortal. I don’t think I can stand to lose any other friends.”

Severus held Harry tight. “I cannot promise you will not, but I can promise that should the worst happen, I will hold you together.”

Harry gave Severus a sad smile. “As long as I have you, I’ll survive.”

“As long as I breathe, pet.”

Harry hugged Severus closer and decided then and there, if they ever bonded, they would be bonded on the lifeline. He did not want to be without Severus, even if that meant he died twenty years too young. Twenty years without his mate was too long. He couldn’t face it. He just hoped Severus would understand.

 _‘One day,’_ he promised himself and hoped he could keep it.


	11. Home At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : Non-explicit slash sex. A metric ton of fluffiness. Summary: Severus finds a way to deal with Harry's fear of being left alone. Draco warns them about the group. Severus and Harry go out to celebrate their relationship and seal their love with a kiss ... and other things._
> 
> _***AN: I bumped the rating down to mature on this. It's not going to have any explicit slash. It's just not that kind of story.***_

##  **Chapter 11**

* * *

_Home at Last_

### July 4, 1999

“Harry, I’m back.”

Severus’ warm greeting relieved Harry. Even after a week, Harry hadn’t let go of his fear that Severus might leave one day and not return. It was crippling sometimes, and Harry had no idea how he would recover from it. He couldn’t exactly go to Muggle therapy—how would he tell them about the war? And wizarding mind healers were out too. Again, the moment he mentioned the war, they would know who he was and not only Harry’s identity, but Severus’ too, would be compromised. He had little choice but to try to conquer it on his own, but so far, his efforts hadn’t shown much promise.

Harry dashed to meet his lover and grabbed him into a tight hug. “S-sorry, so sorry. I can’t control it. Don’t know why.”

Severus stroked Harry’s hair and kissed his forehead. “While I wish it did not terrify you so when I leave for a moment, I do not mind to be greeted so enthusiastically. It is … pleasant to know you love me so much.”

Harry looked up and gave the man a bashful smile. “I adore you, Severus. You’re my world.”

Severus’ breath hitched and his eyes glittered with emotion. “I … oh, Harry.” He brought his lover into a fierce, searching kiss. “I have been so lucky to have you.”

“I feel the same.” Harry nuzzled his cheek. “Where did you go, though? You said it was a surprise.”

Severus smiled. “Well, I am not positive it will cure your fear, but I thought it might help if you could feel me.” He removed a golden chain and pendant from his pocket and held it out to Harry. “I have charmed it to work a bit like a bonding ring does, but without the vows. This will link you to my state of being at all times. You will know if I am well or in distress, and you will also be able to communicate with me in times of need, even if I am across the globe. And since only you can remove it, you will always have this link to me.”

Harry took the locket with shaking hands. He thought it bore a phoenix design on the front, but his eyes filled too fast to be sure. “S-Sev, you really—for me?”

“Yes, pet. So you can be assured of my return at all times.”

Harry clutched the pendant to his heart and let slip a tearful laugh. “Oh gods, Sev. It’s brilliant. Thank you so much.” He kissed his lover, trying to convey the depth of his feeling through his lips when his words didn’t reach far enough. “I love you. Love you so much. Oh, Sev … I can’t ….” Tears poured down his face, and Harry laughed at himself. “Damn it. You would think by the number of times I’ve cried with you that I’m miserable, but it’s just the opposite.”

Severus chuckled. “It is quite all right. You have been through much.” He kissed Harry’s forehead. “Will you allow me to put that on you?”

Harry nodded and handed him the chain. Severus slipped it over Harry’s head and tucked the pendant into his shirt. The instant it touched his skin, powerful sensations of warmth, concern, and deep, honest affection filled his chest, as well as the knowledge that Severus was okay. Harry gasped and swayed a bit with the power of Severus’ feelings, and tears flooded his eyes anew.

“Oh, Sev. I didn’t know it would make me feel what you do.”

Severus blushed. “I, ah, that is one more gift for you, two more, perhaps, but I would like to wait until tonight to present you with those.”

Harry nodded and wiped his eyes. “I feel like a cad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“You gave me the greatest gift of my life when you said you loved me. And the second greatest when you pushed that article through the Prophet and forced them to acknowledge what I had done in the war.” Severus kissed Harry lightly. “It is enough. For now, let us get ready. I am taking you to the waterfront tonight.”

“You are?”

“Yes. It is a holiday here, the celebration of the day the United States first declared independence from Britain over two hundred years ago. Every year, the Americans mark the occasion with fireworks. I thought it a rather fitting holiday for us as we have also declared our independence just a week ago, and as I have never had the opportunity to view a fireworks show, I would like to share the first time with you.” Severus blushed again and lowered his eyes. “That is, if you would consent to accompany me.”

Harry hugged him and grinned. “Of course. I’m looking forward to it, but what should I wear?”

“Your denims and a tee will do well enough. It is an informal affair, and we will be sitting on the grass or the pier regardless. Dress trousers would not do well in the dirt.”

Harry grinned. “I never imagined you’d be the type to just sit on the grass with me, but I love that you will.” He kissed Severus with slow, sweet abandon. “Every day, I learn more about you. And every day, I fall that much more.”

Severus closed his eyes, deep love and emotion softening his features. “Merlin, Harry. You are making it difficult to wait until tonight.”

Harry stifled a snort. “Should I also tell you how completely sexy you are?”

Severus groaned. “H-Harry ….”

With a kiss to Severus’ cheek, Harry stepped back and held his lover’s hands. “Ssh. It’s okay. I’m willing to wait as long as you need. In the meantime, are you hungry?”

“That was an interesting segue, but I am, actually.” Severus squeezed Harry’s hands and gave him a warm smile. “Allow me to change into something more suitable and we shall go out to dinner. Is that acceptable?”

Harry beamed. “It’s brilliant. I’ll wait here, love.”

Severus stroked Harry’s hair once and retreated to the bedroom they shared. Harry sat by the fireplace, rubbing the pendant between his fingers and thrilling in the feel of Severus’ … dare he believe it to be love, this soft, warm feeling? Merlin, he hoped so.

Draco’s face appeared in the fire and shocked Harry out of his musing. “Harry? Is Sev around?”

“He’s changing—he’ll be out in a minute.” Harry knelt by the fire and searched Draco for signs of trouble. “Are you okay? Is Neville coping all right?”

“We’re doing better. Neville has had to take his herbology work underground, but he’s offering owl orders under a different name, and he’s doing well enough at the manor. Mother has actually been good to him. It’s been ….” Draco sighed. “It could be so much worse. I’m glad we have a relatively safe place to stay, at least for now. If they find out about us ….”

“If they do, Draco, get out of dodge and come here. We’ll help you find your feet.”

Draco gave him a sad smile. “I don’t want to leave Mum, but if Neville’s life is in danger, I reckon I won’t have much of a choice. I won’t leave him to suffer like that again.”

“I’m sorry, Draco. It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t have to choose between your mother and your partner.”

“I don’t, not really. We might not be able to live here with Mum in the end, but she won’t disown us at least. Not like Augusta has Nev.”

Harry scowled. “Uppity bitch. How is Neville coping?”

Draco shook his head. “It’s … hard to tell. He’s so quiet when he’s down. Just goes out and tinkers with his plants for hours.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. “I have no idea if I’m helping him or not, Harry. I’m trying, but for all I know I’m making a mess of everything.”

“I think, as long as he knows you love him and you’re trying, it’ll be okay.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Severus came through, dressed in black denims and a pale blue polo, his long hair tied back. Harry gave him an appreciative smile and motioned him over.

“Draco was just telling us how they’re doing. Neville is … managing. It’s hard to judge how well.”

Severus nodded and knelt beside Harry. “I heard, love.” He reached through the fire and held Draco’s shoulder. “Simply stand by him. That is all you can do now.”

Draco leaned into Severus’ hand a moment. “Thanks, Sev.”

“You are welcome.” Severus withdrew from the fire and wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist. “Did you simply wish to check in, or is there another reason for your call?”

Draco’s expression turned grim. “It’s that movement. Neville wasn’t able to go to the meeting last week so we stayed behind, but Percy went. He didn’t want to contact you himself in case he’s been tagged, but Merlin. Percy tried to disguise himself, but they had some kind of magic at the door that removed all traces of glamours and polyjuice. They didn’t hold it against him as many people that came were in danger and _had_ to hide their identities, but they wouldn’t let anyone in the door without removing their disguises first. And there were others from the Ministry there.”

Harry grimaced. “Has he been outed?”

“No. Percy managed to pass himself off as a curious supporter, but not actively gay. He said he hated lying about it, but in his position, he has no choice until he knows more about what’s really going on behind the scenes, and there _is_ something going on.”

“Who’s leading it?”

Draco shook his head. “That’s the thing that has us so nervous. We don’t know. The man who led the meeting had his face covered with a mask and altered his voice. He didn’t talk about much beyond gathering support, helping those who’ve been hurt, and moving towards ousting the traditionalists in power, but it all feels … wrong.”

Harry shuddered. “I sense it too. Something isn’t right.”

“Yes, but what can we do? Without more information, we have no idea how to combat it.”

“Be careful, Draco,” Severus said, his expression tight with worry. “Please do not place yourself or Neville in harm’s way.”

Draco nodded. “I’ll do everything I can to keep us safe. I just wanted you to tell me what you thought, as you’ve more experience with this kind of thing.”

Severus closed his eyes. “In the beginning, Riddle spoke of uniting the oppressed under his cause and removing those he deemed unworthy of power from positions of authority. It may be that this organisation plans to do the same in a fully legitimate way, but I doubt it. I doubt Britain _can_ be altered without bloodshed. The purebloods have such a death-grip on policy, finances, and the media that I fear any real change will have to come at great cost.”

Draco shivered and rubbed his arms. “That’s what we were afraid you’d say.”

“Would that I could give you a more comforting answer. Please, Draco. Be careful.”

“I will. If it gets bad, Neville and I will pack up and leave. Britain is a nightmare for homosexual wizards, but it’s not the only country in the world. We’ll be all right with Mum’s help, I think, even if we do have to leave and start all over.”

“You will,” said Harry. “And don’t forget you have our support as well.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

“Give Neville my love, will you? Tell him we have his back and he can call me if he needs to.”

Draco smiled. “I will.” He frowned. “Oh. I meant to tell you, Harry, the news about the Weasel’s attack on Nev—the _true_ story, I mean—broke today in the Prophet as well as the Quibbler. That’s why Luna hasn’t had time to get the papers to you yet. It’s been a madhouse.”

Harry grinned. “Merlin! How did you pull that off?”

“Your ex-girlfriend managed it, actually, with help from Luna and Anthony Goldstein. They invented some kind of nifty little charm that disguised the article as yet another bit of anti-gay rubbish, then changed it to the true story on an event timer. It shifted the moment the paper had landed on the recipients’ stoops. I gave them memory snapshots of Neville’s state when we found him, Nev gave shots showing Ron et al as the perpetrators, and Ginny, Luna, and Tony worked that all into the article as photographic evidence. It was brilliantly done, but now he Weasleys are in a tiff and the Prophet is going mad trying to find out who infiltrated their system. It put a hell of a dent in their ‘poor-abandoned-best-friend’ angle, that’s for sure.”

“Brilliant!” Harry gave Draco a sad smile. “Well, not brilliant, not with what you and Neville had to go through for it, but maybe it’ll get through to some people. Maybe it’ll do some good.”

Draco nodded grimly. “It already has done. Parvati started as an official auror this week, and whilst her supervisors were at lunch today, she did a little digging into the complaint files at the DMLE. There’ve been _loads_ of people demanding the arrest of all three giant prats and even more formal requests for Neville to be reinstated as heir. He wants none of it. Augusta showed her true colours already, and Neville’s made it clear that even if she does reinstate him, he’s done with her and her family. All but his parents, of course.”

A strong surge of grief and remorse rushed through Severus’ pendant. Bemused, Harry looked at the man and received a flash of pain-maddened faces in return. The Longbottoms. Severus still blamed himself that he hadn’t been there that day, that he hadn’t been there to keep Bellatrix’s mad urges in check.

Harry took his partner’s hand and held it tight. “It’s not your fault, Sev.”

Severus kissed Harry’s fingers and leaned against him, and slowly the pain in his emotions dissipated.

“There is one more positive outcome.” Draco looked at Harry, his expression hesitant. “Granger. From Ginny’s report, the moment she saw the images and couldn’t deny the Weasel’s involvement, she packed up and left the Burrow. We don’t know where she’s gone yet, but if she really _does_ want to reconcile with you, then I reckon she’ll be making contact with us soon.”

Harry’s heart thumped. “Oh.” He sank against Severus with a sigh. “I’m not sure how much it _can_ be reconciled, not given how she stood by and did nothing for weeks, but I’m glad she’s away from him at any rate. He’s dangerous, whether his family wants to believe it or not.”

Severus ran his fingers through Harry’s hair and kissed his partner’s temple. “I am glad you are away from that man too. He is dangerous, and I believe he would have been whether you were homosexual or not. Many people dislike homosexuals, but few I know would have gone so far to hurt them to the point that Weasley hurt you, love, especially their brothers, schoolmates, and friends.”

Harry nodded and buried his face into Severus’ shoulder. Some days he wondered if he would ever fully recover from Ron’s betrayal and the loss of so many he had loved, fought, and died for. Then Severus held him tight, and he remembered—he had found beauty in the ashes of his former life.

Draco gave a soft sigh. “Sev, take care of him. He needs you now. And I need to check on Nev anyway. This article—it’s really torn him up.”

“Draco, thank you,” said Harry. “And … to everyone else.”

Draco snorted. “I’m to be reduced to an owl for you now?”

“Er … well, I’ve tried to talk to her, but ….”

“But it’s not safe for Sev.” Draco gave him a sad smile. “I know. I’ll pass on your message.”

“Thanks, Draco. Go take care of Nev for me.”

“That was the plan.” Draco moved away from the fire and cut the connection.

“She left him.” Harry let slip a shuddering sigh and pressed closer into Severus’ arms.

“It was rather overdue,” Severus said with a sniff. “Even when I had to pretend to hate you, I never treated you so poorly as _either_ of your former best friends have done.”

“No.” Harry nuzzled Severus’ neck and kissed the warm, sensitive skin under his ear. “I’m so glad you came to me, love. I’d have gone barmy long before now without you.”

Severus kissed Harry lightly. “I am glad too, my Harry.” He stood and helped Harry to his feet. “Do you still wish to celebrate with me? I understand if you would rather stay in.”

Harry gave him a warm smile and shook his head. “Let’s go out. I’ve never seen a real fireworks show either. Not unless you count the twins’ prank in fifth year ….” His shoulders slumped—the twins were lost to him now too.

“Sev, sometimes I feel like I have no memories left that aren’t poisoned.”

Severus took Harry’s hand and held it against his waist. “Then we shall make new memories, for both of us.”

Harry smiled, the promise of a future with Severus washing away the pain of the past. “That sounds lovely.”

  


* * *

  


Severus sat on a blanket by the waterfront, Harry curled into his side, legs intertwined. Harry watched the fireworks with the wide eyes and the first real expression of delight he had worn since his friends’ betrayal. Severus appreciated what the Muggles had done considering their lack of magic, but lost interest in the show soon after it started, instead preferring to watch the reflections in Harry’s eyes.

Gods, he was so beautiful. Those gorgeous green eyes, full lips, and his fine, straight nose might have had the delicacy of femininity, if not for the sharp angles of a masculine jaw and strong chin. His five-o-clock shadow added to the impression of a fully-grown, gorgeous young man, and Severus found the combination irresistible.

No fireworks compared to this.

Harry turned and caught Severus staring, and a pink flush crept up his cheeks, illuminated by street lamps and the fading glow of fire in the sky. “Sev?”

“You are beautiful.” Severus cupped Harry’s face and traced his thumbs over his cheeks. “And I can wait no longer.” He caught Harry into a passionate, searing kiss.

Harry tensed against him and trembled. “But ….” The way his eyes darted about made his fears plain.

“Ssh,” Severus soothed against his lips. “We will not be harmed. There are other same-sex couples near us tonight.”

Harry let slip a soft murmur of relief and melted into Severus’ touch. “Sev’rus ….”

“Mm.” Severus kissed him with all the slow, tender love he had kept banked for so long, the hidden font of desire he had buried under blind after blind, traps and walls and pain so thick, he had almost suffocated among his anguish. He would have never been free to pursue this chance to love, to feel this soul-deep need for another person, without Harry’s sacrifice. He would never have known what it meant to feel the warmth of his lover’s heartbeat close to his own, or to feel his body melting under sun-warmed kisses sweetened with the taste of wine and chocolate, if not for Harry’s love.

Severus pulled back with a breathless whisper of Harry’s name and gazed into those big green eyes. “Harry, you repeatedly tell me you would not survive if not for me, but I would never have known what it meant to live without you.”

Harry gave him a smile edged with tears of happiness. “I love you, Severus.”

Severus kissed him lightly. “And your love for me is, in part, why I wish to give you my second gift now, in this moment with you.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“It is not a … physical thing, but it means more to me than you know.” Severus waited until a blast of fireworks finished rumbling to whisper, “Harry, I love you too.”

Harry gave a little gasp and grabbed Severus’ shoulders, eyes wide and shimmering with tears. “S-Sev, did I … did I hear that right?”

“If you heard me tell you that I love you, then yes.”

“Sev!” Harry toppled him with kisses, bathing every surface of Severus’ face in his love and tears of happiness. “Oh _gods_ , oh! I love you. Love you so much.”

Severus laughed between kisses, heart spilling over with joy. Tears of his own ran down his temples and into his hair, but as Harry brought him close and kissed him senseless, he hardly noticed.

“Best present I ever got,” Harry said with a half-laugh, half-sniffle. “Whoever said you weren’t a romantic is a bloody fool.”

Severus chuckled and held Harry tight. “You are happy then?”

“Gods—have you seen me? Look at me! I’m a blubbering mess.” Harry laughed and wiped his eyes. “Yes, love. I’m so happy I can hardly sit still.”

A spark flickered in Severus’ chest. “Oh? Well, I believe the fireworks are winding down now anyway. Would you like to return home and receive my final gift for the evening?”

Harry grinned. “Love to! Um … what is it?”

Severus purred in his ear, “My body, if you want me.”

Harry gasped and stifled a moan in Severus’ throat. “Dear _gods_ , yes.”

Severus packed up and dragged Harry away faster than apparition.

  


* * *

  


They had made it to the bedroom without a break, stripping along the way and startling Fawkes half out of his wits, but now that Severus had a nude, aroused Harry waiting on his bed, his heart felt as though it would hammer out of his chest. Gods help him, what had he been thinking? He hadn’t dared touch a man since sixth year and his disastrous affair with Lucius. He had certainly never made love to someone before. By all rights, Harry, a virgin in terms of homosexual sex and twenty years his junior, was probably more experienced.

Of course, Severus had read about it back when he was young and still hoped to find someone. He supposed it must have done some good as Lucius hadn’t complained—at least, not when Severus had forced him to speak the truth—but books could only go so far. Especially banned foreign books he had read in secret, relying on imperfect translation spells and dim wandlight, fearing every noise, every breath. Since bringing Harry to San Francisco, Severus had purchased a few new books and read them avidly—as had his partner—but even so, he feared his limited knowledge would prove inadequate in practice.

Would Harry leave him if he failed to impress?

“Severus, I can hear you worrying from here.” Harry opened his arms and gave Severus a gentle smile. “Come here, love. We might make a few mistakes the first time, but it’s okay. It just means we’ll have more excuse to practise.”

Severus swallowed a nervous flutter and took a step closer. “You … will be patient? I am dreadfully inexperienced, love.”

Harry gave a soft laugh. “Severus, I’m _entirely_ inexperienced.”

“Well, yes, but you must have at least had some practice with your former fia—”

“No. I could never touch her. I’m a virgin, Severus. In all ways.”

Wonder and love, bright and warm and breathless, suffused Severus’ heart and drew him into his partner’s arms. “I had thought ….”

“You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved. The only one I’ve ever allowed to touch me like this.”

Severus’ hands trembled as he linked his fingers with Harry’s. “You are the first person I have ever loved too, and the first I will ever make love to.”

Harry’s breath hitched. “Yes,” he whispered against Severus’ lips. “Make love to me, my Sev. I’ve wanted to feel you inside me for the longest time.”

A jolt of pleasure zinged down his spine. Severus answered the siren call of Harry’s lips, sliding one hand into his messy hair, tasting just inside his honey-sweet kiss.

“In time,” Severus whispered against Harry’s mouth. “First, I wish to discover you. To explore every curve and angle of this lovely body.” He nuzzled Harry’s neck and teased his earlobe with the tip of his tongue. “I wish to take my time and ensure you feel the same love you have showered upon me since even before I came back for you. I wish you to know I love you as much as you love me, and I am yours now, as long as you want me.”

Tears shining on his lashes, Harry cupped Severus’ face and held him close. “Forever, Severus. I want you forever.”

Severus laid his forehead against Harry’s and closed his eyes, overcome. He had never imagined he would hear those words, and now that he had, Merlin, he wanted it too.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Forever sounds lovely.”

Harry’s tears slipped down, but he was smiling. “Then make love to me, Sev. Claim me and make me yours.”

“Mm.” Severus turned Harry onto his back and sealed their promise with a gentle kiss. “My Harry.” He whispered against Harry’s ear and toyed with the lobe. Harry’s breath hitched and he arched into Severus’ touch.

“Oh gods. Yes, Severus. Love you so much.”

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but learned then that Harry had no intention of being a passive partner that evening. Harry’s hot mouth latched onto Severus’ throat, tongue lapping over his scars and Severus thought he would burn up under his sensual assault.

Nagini’s venom had rendered the skin of Severus’ neck hypersensitive. It annoyed him most of the time, when a high collar irritated his flesh or a gentle spring breeze cut like cold steel, but at that moment, with Harry taking him apart stroke by stroke, he could’ve kissed the bloody snake. Lightning and water followed every touch of Harry’s lips, his gentle tongue, and the slightest brush of his teeth had Severus crying out.

“Oh Merlin,” Severus panted. “B-be gentle. I am … not sure I can handle much beyond this.”

Harry traced soft kisses and kitten licks up to Severus’ ear. Tugging heat on the lobe set Severus quivering.

“I’ll take care of you, Severus.” Harry kissed Severus’ neck just below his ear. “Always.”

Severus caught Harry into a fierce kiss, overcome. Harry wanted to take care of him. Gods, how long had he wished for such a love? For a man to protect him from the evils of the world? He had never imagined he would find that man in Harry, had never believed he would find him at all, but having him here now made all the pain, the intolerable wait, the fighting and misery worth it.

Severus forgot the books, forgot his nervousness and uncertainty, forgot his methodical preparation for this moment and simply set about making Harry feel as good as possible. He kissed every inch of his lover’s body, seeking the places that made Harry cry out and plead for more, committing his taste, the sight of him lost in pleasure to memory.

Gods, Harry was exquisite. Tousled dark hair, eyes like the light of the sun through summer leaves, pink lips parted and swollen with their kisses—Merlin. Severus had never seen such a gorgeous man. Even if they couldn’t stay together forever, as much as he hoped for it, he would cherish this memory for the rest of his life.

He cradled Harry across his lap as he prepared his partner, watching his face for any sign of pain. Harry rocked with his hands, his expression ecstatic, his hand tangled in Severus’ hair. And when they joined, when he finally sank into his partner’s heat, Severus knew he had come home. Whatever happened in the future, whatever problems came their way, they would face them together. After forty years of solitude, Severus was no longer alone.

And neither was Harry.

“I love you,” Harry murmured, voice thick and low with desire.

Severus held him close as they made love, whispering his love and vows of faith over and over. Harry responded to each one with kisses and promises of his own.

“Forever,” Harry breathed against Severus’ ear. “Forever mine.”

“Yes,” Severus whispered back. “Yours, always.”

“Oh, Severus!” Harry clung to Severus’ back and arched up. “Please.”

Severus responded to his partner’s desperate cry with a surge of fiery passion. He could wait no longer. Heat and light burned a path through his neurons, setting his body ablaze. Gods, he would melt any moment.

“Severus!”

Harry’s sharp cry, the feel of his pleasure within and without sent Severus spiralling over the edge. With a breathless shout, Severus tumbled into a world of white-hot ecstasy, lost within the exquisite joy of their love.

“Gods, love.” Panting, Severus fell beside his partner and held him tight, careless of his sweaty, sticky body. “Sweet Merlin.”

Harry gave a breathless laugh. “Was it good then?”

“Good?” Severus nuzzled Harry’s throat and held him tighter, emotion overwhelming him now that the heat of desire had faded to a pleasant hum. “I waited forty years for you and it was worth every bloody minute. Every … every m-moment.”

Harry kissed a few tears from Severus’ cheeks and caressed his hair. “Yeah. It’s not been so long for me but I would do everything all over again to have you.”

Severus gave a tremulous cry and wrapped Harry tight. “Don’t leave me. Stay with me, please. I need you.”

He soothed Severus with soft susurrations and gentle words of love. “I’m with you, love. Forever.”

Severus relaxed into Harry’s arms and slowly came down from his emotional peak. “Yes, forever is good.”

“Mm-hmm.” Harry snuggled against Severus’ chest, cast a cleaning charm, and sighed into his partner’s chest. “Thank you, Sev. For giving me happy memories again.”

Severus cradled Harry close and kissed his hair. “You are my happiness,” he whispered, and slowly drifted into dreams.


	12. Second Starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : mention of murders. Summary: Harry and Severus start at their respective Universities, Severus as a professor again and Harry as a student of warding. Percy takes a walk on the dark side. Trouble breaks out across the pond ... again._
> 
> _***AN: I've never attempted to write from Percy's POV, so be gentle! I tried to be true to his character, as it pertains to this story at least. Also, I'm playing with the headline fonts for this chapter, so the format will be a bit different until I settle on what I want.***_

##  ** Chapter 12 **  
_Second Starts_

### AUGUST 16, 1999

“Sev, have you seen my tie?”

It was Harry’s first day of university and, all morning, Severus had watched, secretly amused, as the young man panicked himself into a frenzy.

“Sev, really! I can’t find it anywhere.”

Severus chuckled at his partner’s flustered state and Summoned the garment in question. “Love, have you forgotten you are a wizard?” He slipped behind Harry and hugged him, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. “Do try not to worry yourself to death. You are quite intelligent and skilled enough to teach some of your classes on your own.”

Harry’s cheek heated against Severus’, but the young man leaned into him and sighed, some of his tension evaporating from his body. “I … it’s just, it’s the first day, Sev. I want to make a good impression.”

Severus held him tight. “You will, pet.” He kissed Harry’s earlobe and nuzzled his neck. “Have I told you today how proud I am of you?” He traced his tongue along a line of Harry’s slim throat and back up to his ear. “Perfect.”

Harry squirmed and gasped at Severus’ gentle kisses. “Mm, Sev, don’t get me worked up before class.”

Severus laughed softly. “You are too tempting for my own good.” He stepped back and draped the length of blue and silver silk—Harry’s new school colours—around his partner’s neck, tying it with the ease of long practice. “There is no need to fret, Harry. You are brilliant at warding. You will be sure to blow them all away, and those who do not recognise your skill and kind heart are not worth your time. Simply be the wonderful, intelligent young man you are, and you will be fine.”

Harry sighed and brought Severus’ hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “Thanks, Severus. I reckon I am being a bit silly. I just can’t help but worry. Every time I’ve tried to go to school before, something terrible has happened to me.”

“Harry, love, we are on the other side of the globe and Riddle is dead. There is no need to fear.”

Harry turned and gave Severus a soft kiss. “You’re right.” He stepped back and attempted to flatten his hair. “How do I look?”

“Mm.” Severus straightened Harry’s vest and tie and tucked a loose corner of his shirt into his trousers. “Like a well-to-do British man off to his first day of uni.”

Harry snorted. “Well, I’m not so sure about the well-to-do part but the rest of it is dead on.” He fidgeted with his trousers. “Really, do I look all right?”

Severus caught Harry’s hands and brought them to his lips. “You are lovely. Almost enough that I think I should follow you to uni and ensure no dim-witted twits try to sink their well-manicured claws into you.”

Harry laughed. “I’ve no interest in twits, thanks! Had my fair share of those in Britain.”

“The gits, then,” said Severus with a dark look.

“No, no gits either.” Harry cupped Severus’ face and nuzzled his nose. “I’m content with you. More so than I ever dreamed. Thank you, love, for pulling me out of that darkness.”

Severus ran his hands through Harry’s hair, smoothing his wild curls. “You _are_ much better these days. Will you be all right at uni, knowing I am three counties away?”

Harry rubbed the phoenix pendant at his throat. “I can feel you. Every moment, I feel how much you love me.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I also felt how much amusement you took in my distress this morning, you git. You might have just reminded me we left my trousers on the kitchen table last night.”

Severus shivered at that memory. Gods, feeling Harry’s body wrapped around his was like coming home. He never tired of the way he felt buried inside his Harry, or to feel his loving, generous partner deep within him. Merlin had surely blessed the day Severus had come back to this lovely man.

Severus smirked and rubbed Harry’s cheek. “Where is the fun in that?”

Harry smacked his arm playfully. “Prat! I’m going to be late because of your fun.”

Severus chuckled. “You still have over an hour and apparition _is_ allowed in the US.”

Harry’s eyes sparked. “An hour, hmm? Reckon we could find some way to pass that time?”

Severus’ body responded to the desire in his partner’s eyes in an instant, but he buried his moan in Harry’s throat. “Damn it. _You_ may have time, but I do not. University starts for me today as well, and I must be there early to prepare for the students. I cannot apparate onto a Muggle campus either.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, that’s true. Um, could I come with you, Sev? Just for a bit?”

Severus stood tall and smirked. “Stake your claim, you mean.”

“Exactly. There will be no dim-witted twits or gits for you either.”

Severus kissed Harry lightly. “Grab your books then and come down to the tram station with me.”

“You mean the trolley?”

Severus gave him a dark look. “I mean the tram. Bloody Americans, making up new words for everything when the existing words are perfectly serviceable.”

Harry snorted as he Summoned his knapsack and followed Severus out of their flat. “I’m pretty sure they came up with their own word for it about the same time as we came up with ours.”

“Yes, well, our words are better,” Severus said with a chuckle. “Regardless, do hurry it along, pet. We will be late if we dally much longer.”

“Coming!” Harry locked the door behind him and pocketed his keys. “Sure took me a while to figure these locks out, but I think I’ve got it now.”

A feminine voice from across the hall answered him. “Don’t you worry about that, sonny. These rusty old locks give everyone problems, be they Brit or Yankee.”

Harry turned and waved to their neighbour, a nice old woman with too many cats who put Severus strongly in mind of Arabella Figg. At least she didn’t go about in public with hair rollers and fuzzy cat slippers on.

“Hi, Missus Simpson. Oh, let me help you with that.” Harry took a bag of cat food and oranges from the woman so she could unlock her door.

“Ah, thank you, son.” She took the bag back and hefted it on her hip. “You two look awful nice. Are you headed off to school then?”

“Yes, ma’am. Sev starts teaching again today and I’m off to my first day at uni.”

She gave him an indulgent smile. “Ah, I remember those days. Go on then, off with you before you’re late.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Harry linked his arm through Severus’ and smiled back. “Thanks! We’ll see you later.”

Severus bowed to the older woman and guided Harry towards the stairs. “Come, Harry.”

“Yeah.” Harry walked downstairs with Severus, arm-in-arm, listening as Missus Simpson shut her door behind her and walked away. “It’s nice not to worry about being tortured here, Sev, just because we love each other.”

Severus shook his head. “As much as San Francisco is better than Britain, do not let yourself fall victim to the belief that we are safe here. Homophobia is not unique to Britain, and just as there are some Brits who don’t mind men who love men, there are plenty of Californians who _do_.”

Harry gave him a grim smile. “Noted. Will I cause you trouble by going along with you to your class?”

“No, pet. The entire school is already aware of my sexuality. If it was a problem, I would have run into trouble before now.”

Harry sighed and leaned against Severus’ side. “Good. I was worried.”

“Yes.” Severus checked his watch and nodded. “The next tram should be here in about two minutes.”

“You have it down to a science, huh?”

Severus chuckled. “I have been riding them to and fro for a year now. It helps if you recall which tram goes where if you intend to arrive home before they stop for the night.”

“Hmm.” Harry laid his head on Severus’ shoulder. “Did you ever get lost when you first moved here?”

“Yes, often. One night, I ended up on the opposite side of the city after midnight with no way home and no safe point from which to travel _our_ way. I had to take a cab home, but I hadn’t enough money for the fare, and so ended up having to … alter what I had available.” He hoped Harry would understand he had transfigured the bills. “I did send the rest of the money via the post the next morning, but nevertheless, that embarrassment was enough to ensure I never lost my way in the city again.”

Harry frowned. “You might have been hurt.”

“Hmm. I can fend for myself, love.”

“True, I suppose.” He sighed and stood straight as the trolley arrived. “I suppose it would be a good idea for me to learn the trolley times myself.”

“And their routes. Be sure to choose the correct route.” Severus guided Harry onto the trolley and chose a seat near the middle. “From uni, you can take a tram home at four-twelve, and it should read Fifth Avenue to Goldberg Street on the side.”

“Fifth Avenue to Goldberg. Got it.” Harry sat beside Severus and held his hand. “I’m excited, Sev. I’m really hoping I can make a friend or two. It’s been lonely here, well, when I’m not with you, of course.”

“I hope you make friends as well. You need relationships outside ours to be healthy.”

Harry frowned and rubbed Severus’ hand. “Do _you_ have friends, Sev? I don’t know that you’ve ever mentioned any.”

“I have professional relationships with my colleagues, Harry, and that is enough to keep me satisfied. My need for social interaction is lower than yours, I think.”

“Yeah, I guess so. You’re much more reserved than I am.” Harry grinned. “Maybe it’s part of why we’re doing so well together. We fill in each other’s blanks.”

Severus tugged Harry’s hand into his lap. “Mm, maybe so.”

The trolley stopped and let a group of passengers on, and as if to prove Severus’ point, two of the men scowled at Harry and Severus. They muttered something about fags and homos and acted as though they would approach, but a stern glare—and a bit of mind manipulation—from Severus sent the prats packing.

“We’ll just wait for the next one,” the first prat muttered. He dragged his companion off the trolley, much to Severus’ relief, and the tram went on without them.

“I see what you mean about some Californians being arseholes,” Harry said.

Severus snorted. “Don’t worry, love. Most of them are kind enough to recognise us as human beings in love, or simply ignore us if they are not.”

“Hmm.” Harry whispered, “Did you, uh, _influence_ them to leave?”

“Of course I did. I could not have you harmed on your first day of class.”

Harry chuckled softly. “Thanks, love.”

“I will always protect you.”

“Yeah. You always have.”

Harry rested his head on Severus’ shoulder and rode in silence the rest of the way.

 

* * *

 

Percy Weasley adjusted his tie and slipped into the late-night meeting at the new ‘Revolution’ headquarters. As usual, his disguises melted away the moment he stepped into the building, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. It might not have bothered him, if he wasn’t fully-aware he had just stepped naked into a nest full of potential hornets.

With a shiver, he walked through the worn-down halls of the old warehouse they used as a meeting place, dread trickling down his spine. Every meeting, it seemed the revolutionists grew more impatient for real change. Percy had no idea how they imagined they would accomplish it so fast. The Wizengamot _had_ begun to change, with younger blood taking over from the stodgy purebloods with stricter views, and Percy had managed to slip in a few small changes to make life a little easier for the non-heteronormative people of Britain, but to overhaul the entire system in a few weeks? Impossible.

At least by legal means.

Percy dropped his head lest someone read his traitorous thoughts. Severus’ life had taught him much about spying in enemy territory, but he hadn’t any confidence to speak of in his ability to Occlude, not in a room full of unknowns.

He passed through hallways tacked with flyers of all colours. Old advertisements for the shoe factory that had once called this place its home peeked through the gaps of yellowing newspaper articles and bright propaganda. Muggle party letters lined the top of the walls, reading “viva la revolution,” “pummel pureblood power,” and “out with the old, in with the new,” in gaudy, glittery capitals. The dichotomy between what appeared to be decorations for a child’s birthday party and the dark message they painted lifted the hairs on the back of Percy’s neck.

Gods, this place was creepy. He rubbed goosebumps from his arms and hurried past the signs, lest he reveal too much of his distrust.

Within the main chamber—decorated with graffiti and corkboards rather than flyers and juvenile party favours—a masked man with dark hair paced up and down the leader’s dais. Several of the usual crowd had already gathered around him, all wearing expressions of irritation and discontent.

Percy avoided the malcontents and sought Draco and Neville among the crowd. He spotted Draco’s lacquered blonde head near the back of the group, near Luna’s flaxen curls and the Patil twins’ dark beauty. Ginny was there as well, along with Anthony Goldstein, Hannah Abbott, Seamus Finnegan, and Dean and his younger brother Paul—a squib. Beside them, a face he hadn’t expected to see turned to him and broke into a bright, freckled grin.

“Perce? Merlin, they said you’d been involved with this from the start, but I didn’t half-believe them!”

Arms as thick as a horse’s neck and shiny with burn scars grabbed him around the waist and hugged him so tight, Percy thought his ribs might crack.

He wheezed out, “Charlie?”

The bear of a man let him go and clapped him on the back, nearly sending Percy toppling into the crowd. A man as strong as Charlie caught Percy and set him back on his feet, an amused and fond expression on his dark features.

“Charlie, come now, you will break your brother’s neck before he has time to greet you if you are not careful!”

The man spoke in a strong Romanian accent, and Percy gathered he must be one of Charlie’s colleagues from the dragon reserve.

“Er … Charlie, not that I’m not glad to see you and all, but what are you doing here?”

Charlie chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I reckon I’m here for the same reason you are, little brother.” He took the Romanian man by the hand and brought him in close to his side. “Percy, let me introduce you to my colleague here. Nick, this is Percy Weasley, my younger brother. Percy, this is Nicolae Oncea, my colleague and … my fiancé.”

Percy flushed. “Oh! Merlin, Charlie. I … oh, I’ve forgotten my manners.” He shook Nicolae’s hand. “Ah, pleasure to meet you, Mister Oncea.”

“Please,” the man said with a bright grin, “we are soon to be brothers. Please call me Nicolae, or Nick.”

“Welcome to the family, Nicolae,” said an off-balance Percy. “Charlie—Merlin! How long have you—I had no idea you were gay at all!”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t safe to reveal it around the family, now was it?”

Percy winced. “Apparently not all of them.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ron—I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy. It’s one thing to dislike us, but to take it that far … that’s not even close to normal. There’s something … _wrong_ there. The rest of them besides Ginny are just idiots.”

“Well, maybe not all of us,” said Bill, from behind his brother. “Nice to see you again, Percy.”

Percy reeled backwards into Neville.

“Bill! Where did you come from?”

Bill snorted. “I’ve been here the whole time. This giant oaf here just overshadowed me.”

Charlie wrapped an arm around his somewhat shorter and _much_ slimmer brother’s neck, grinning ear-to-ear. “Aw, is that any way to greet your long-lost little brother, mate?”

Bill shook his head wryly, making his earring dangle. “ _Little_ brother, my arse,” he said with a playful punch to Charlie’s arm.

Somehow, Percy doubted the man even felt it.

He gave his oldest brother a worried look. “Bill, where’s Fleur? Does she know …?”

Bill nodded. “She’s home with Victoire, but yes, she knows. She’s French, remember? Fleur thinks all this line-ender business is madness.”

“Oh.” Percy rubbed his forehead, feeling distinctly wrong-footed. “Um, there’s really no delicate way to ask this, but are you …?”

“Bisexual? I’m pansexual, actually, though I’m quite happy with my wife. I don’t care what parts a person has. It’s the heart underneath that matters to me.”

“Pansexual?” Percy laughed wryly. “I wasn’t even aware that was a thing.”

Some spy he was. Severus was probably rolling in his grave. Percy shook his head and made a note to do more research on the various ways a person could differ from the norm.

“Yeah, it is.” Bill took Percy aside and whispered. “Mate, what’s going on here? They said you’re the person to go to for the inside information. I gotta tell you, I don’t like the vibe of this place. Something seems really off.”

“You’re not the only one. They want to revolutionise Britain, but … well, that’s what I was trying to do from within already. And that ….” Percy nodded towards the crowd pacing near the platform, waiting on the meeting to start. “I don’t like the looks of such impatience. You don’t change a country overnight without a lot of bloodshed.”

Bill shuddered. “That’s what I was afraid of. I—”

Before he could speak, the leader’s voice, altered to a low, gravelly rasp, interrupted.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight.” He motioned, and everyone conjured a chair and sat. The leader waited for the newcomers to catch on and copy their neighbours before he spoke again. “It has come to my attention that the Wizengamot has, once again, blocked our efforts to end discrimination against our people. Mister Flint, it seems, is most unhappy about the idea of non-hetero wizards gaining the simple right to protection from abuse, and even Harry Potter’s case was not enough to sway him.”

Percy cringed. Gods, poor Harry. Merlin, he hoped the boy was happier now, wherever he had gone.

The leader banged his fist against his podium. “I am disgusted! We have lost a great hero of the darkest war ever to bleed our nation simply because fools are too blind to see that love comes in many forms—and none of them _are a_ _threat_!”

A loud outbreak of cheering met this statement, including chants of Harry’s name. It seemed Harry had become a poster-boy for the Revolution whether he wanted to be or not.

“Well, I say enough is enough. We tried their way, and we have nothing to show for it. Well, now I say it’s time to do things _our_ way, and show them that there are consequences for denying us the basic right to live!”

Percy stiffened, blood chilling in his veins. Merlin, but he had a bad feeling about this.

Neville asked the question before he could. “What kind of consequences? I’m not sinking to their level, if that’s what you mean.”

The leader’s mask gave a parody of a smile. “Of course not. I simply mean it is time to remove the old lines from power. How can there be a revolution if we remain stagnant? There can’t be. We must act! The time is now!”

Around the dais, the impatient crowd broke into cheers and chants. “The time is now! The time is now! For Harry Potter! For us all, the Time is Now!”

Neville gave Percy a dark look. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

“No,” Percy said with a shiver. “Neither do I.”

But what could he do? None of them had any idea what this strange leader had planned, and to reveal their opposition now might turn _them_ into targets.

Maybe an anonymous tip to the aurors to be on the lookout for trouble would keep the worst of their plans in check. Percy hoped so, at least. It was all he could do without turning the ‘revolution’ into an all-out war for blood.

 

* * *

 

Harry came home from his last day of the first week of uni beaming all over his face. His classes were great, the instructors all liked him, and he had made a few tentative friendships among his peers. Tim Tanner, a Muggleborn who lived a few blocks from Harry, and Lacey Meadows, a half-blood from uptown, had plans to meet him Saturday to revise their theory homework. Harry had never looked forward to revision so much. He reckoned it made a difference that he was in school by choice this time and had no crazed fans or mad reporters to worry about.

Severus was already home when he walked in, reading the local newspaper and sipping at a cup of coffee. He looked up when Harry came through the door and greeted him with a coffee-scented kiss.

“Welcome home, love. You look as though your day went well.”

“It was brilliant, Sev!” Harry flopped onto the sofa beside his partner, joy bubbling up in his chest like sunlight spilling through the clouds. “I think I made new friends. Lacey and Tim. We’re going to meet at a coffeeshop to study tomorrow, if that’s all right?”

Severus smiled. “Of course. I’ll make myself useful at the hospital while you’re busy.”

“Sounds great.” Harry snuck a sip of Severus’ coffee and earned himself a glare. “Ugh, how do you drink it without cream?”

Severus snorted and dragged his cup out of reach. “If you do not like the taste of mine, perhaps you might make a cup of your own.”

“Too much effort! I’m beat.”

Severus chuckled. “I do not mind to make one for you. Rest there.”

“No, no, it’s all right. No need to get up. I’d rather just lounge here for a minute.”

“Suit yourself.” Severus went back to his paper.

“Anything interesting?” Harry poked his head over Severus’ shoulder. The man was reading something about a Filipino festival in town.

“Not particularly, unless you would like to attend this festival?”

“Oh, that does sound fun. Maybe we can go tomorrow after our revision date.”

“It won’t be in town for another week, so leave next Saturday open.”

“Sounds good, love.” Harry leaned on his shoulder and looked at the pictures, his eyes too tired after a day of hard study to focus on more tiny text. “Sev, not that I mind, but is there a reason you’re reading the local paper and not the Quibbler? Usually I find you reading it this time of day.”

Severus frowned. “I had thought to, but they are late today.”

“Hmm.” Harry sat up and stared at the empty hearth. “That makes me nervous after Draco’s report earlier in the week.”

“Yes, I agree, but there is little sense in fretting about it now. There is nothing we can do from here.”

“Y-yeah. I guess you’re right.” Harry settled back against Severus with an anxious heart.

 

* * *

 

The newspapers didn’t come until after dinner, when a shell-shocked Neville appeared in the floo, Draco ashen and shaking at his side.

“Harry! P-Professor, come quick!”

Harry came running at the horror-stricken tone of Neville’s voice, dragging Severus in his wake. He skidded to a halt beside the fireplace and dropped to his knees.

“Oh gods, Nev! What’s happened? Has Draco been outed? Are you safe? Is Lu—”

Neville tossed the Prophet to Harry. “W-we’re all fine, but the Flints ….”

Severus gasped and ripped the paper from Harry’s hands before Harry could read much beyond a word. “Oh gods.”

“What? Sev, what is it?”

He lowered the paper so Harry could see. Above a photo of an older couple with trollish features and a scowling boy Harry remembered too well from his days on the quidditch pitch, a huge headline blazed across half the front page.

####  Marcus, Maribelle, and Matthias Flint Murdered in Their Beds: Britain Asks, Is Another Dark Lord on the Rise?

“Dear gods,” Harry breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story about the Filipino festival is a real story in the San Francisco Chronicle from that day, just FYI. ;)


	13. Familiar Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings : discussion of M-Preg, F/F pregnancy (not sure how to tag that one). Discussion of death and war._
> 
> _***AN: Fair warning, I'm having a LOT of trouble with this story. It's not on hiatus, but each chapter is an uphill battle right now. I hope it will get easier now that I have a few plotted and the outline fleshed out a little more.***_

#  ** Chapter 13 **

##  _Familiar Shadows_

Harry’s friends who were aware of Severus’ existence had come through the floo. They sat in conjured seats around Harry and Severus’ living room, their eyes tracking Harry as he paced and snarled under his breath. Gods. The Flints were dead. All murdered with the killing curse while they slept. And Britain was in an uproar.

The article had gone on to surmise their deaths were the work of either a new dark lord or, since the Flints had been neutral-dark during the war, perhaps an act of revenge for their refusal to take sides. The sign scribbled above the master bed, drawn on the wall in Flint Senior’s blood, had only added fuel to their flame. Harry had to admit, it _did_ look like the work of a serial killer or a vigilante.

Or a certain “revolution” he knew of.

Bloody monsters. Gods, as much as Harry agreed something had to be done about Britain’s backwards ways, _this_ wasn’t the way to go about it.

He counted his lucky stars that they at least hadn’t used his scar or something equally recognizable as their sign. After hearing about the way the vigilantes had used his name as a rallying cry, he had half expected it. Instead, they had used magic to draw a sword cutting through bonding rings and blood dripping down both. Though, to be fair, the blood drips might have been runoff.

“Bastards,” Harry muttered under his breath. “This will just make life worse for our kind, see if it doesn’t.”

“Yes,” Severus said in a low, grief-stricken voice. Harry’s heart cracked at the sound of it, the feel of Severus’ pain through his pendant. It was to be expected. Marcus had been one of his students.

“Oh, love.” Harry sat beside his partner and took Severus into his arms. “I’m sorry, Sev. I should have been here to hold you rather than raging.”

Severus shook his head and eased back with a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “No. I am angry too. It is only that he has been my student since he was eleven years old. I had him as my own for ten months out of the year, for seven years. It is… difficult not to feel some attachment in that situation, even if Flint was surely not a favourite of mine.”

“Until he won at quidditch,” said Draco with a wry smile.

“Yes, well, a certain Gryffindor I know made that exceedingly difficult in his later years at Hogwarts.”

Harry chuckled wanly. “Sorry, not sorry.” He slipped his arm through Severus’. “Is this okay? I know you aren’t one for public displays, but—”

Severus turned Harry’s face to him and kissed him full on the mouth. “Since when have I hesitated to show my affection for you?”

Harry gave him a sheepish smile. “Well, I just thought… because they were your students and all—er… I’m sorry, Sev. I guess I’m just a bit self-conscious at the moment.”

Severus wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “It’s quite all right.” He rubbed Harry’s arm, his touch soothing, and gave his comrades a grim look. “We are all agreed it is most likely the ‘revolutionists’ behind this, yes?”

“Absolutely,” said Draco, his grey eyes sharp with fury. “The leader talked about Flint blocking us last meeting, then his ‘inner circle’ vanishes off the map, and the next moment, Flint’s dead. It’s much too convenient to be a coincidence.”

Harry grimaced at the terminology. “Must we refer to them as his inner circle?”

“Yes,” said Severus with a grave look. “That is precisely what they are.” He turned to Parvati. “Is there any proof?”

She shook her head, her eyes worried. “And we won’t find any.”

“Not until it’s too late,” said Luna.

Harry winced. “Too late for _what_?”

“To stop more people from dying,” Neville said, his voice trembling.

Harry leaned on his elbows, guilt and terror crashing through him. “We have to stop them!”

Every eye in the room fixed on him, and Harry gulped.

“You?” Severus plucked Harry off the sofa and deposited him in his lap. “No. Your battle is over and done with.”

“But they’re using _my name_ to justify their crimes, Severus!”

“Not for long,” said Parvati with a devious grin. “Give us a little interview, Harry, or a statement. We’ll make sure it gets posted on the Prophet’s front page.”

“And the Quibbler,” said Luna.

Dean smirked. “And the Rolling Green.”

Harry blinked. “What’s that?”

“Ireland’s national paper,” said Severus. “I’m assuming Finnigan is behind that?”

Dean nodded. “His mum is one of the reporters. She’s been helping us there. The Irish folk are on our side, thank Merlin.”

“Thank Merlin indeed,” agreed Severus. “It means those of our persuasion who may soon find themselves in hot water from both sides will have a place to go.”

Draco flinched. “Yes, perhaps.” He slipped his hand into Neville’s and sighed. “What do we do about this, Severus? We can’t let it go unchecked, but any action we take might have grave consequences for us all.” He ducked his head. “If it was only me—I wouldn’t hesitate, but I have to think of Nev, too. He has nowhere else to go. The others are in similar shape.”

“Percy will be our way in,” said Luna with a shake of her head. “He’s the only one capable of the kind of control and intelligence to be a spy.”

“And the rest of us will be the new Order,” said Parvati with a grimace.

“Not Harry and Sev,” said Draco. “They’ve done enough.” He gave his godfather a wry smile. “Though if Percy really _is_ to be a spy this time around, he might benefit from some training. No one else we know has ever been a real spy right in the thick of things.”

Severus winced. “Yes, though I fear to reveal my location to him. To anyone, truly. Still, I suppose it cannot be helped. I will train him, if he takes a vow never to reveal my name or any other crucial information.”

Neville frowned. “What should we say if someone asks where he learned his new skills?”

Severus rubbed his chin. “Hmm. If you are speaking to your allies, tell them he received classified training from an ex-WCIA agent. It’s close enough to the truth.”

Dean cocked his head. “WCIA?”

“Wizarding Central Intelligence Agency,” said Luna and Parvati at once.

“A national organisation known for spying both among the American wizarding world and no-maj populace,” Severus added. “It is the US’ answer to the Unspeakables.”

“Oh.” Draco frowned and scratched his head. “No-maj?”

“America’s word for Muggles.”

“Well, that should be enough to keep the gossipers at bay.” Padma winced. “Unless they ask for names.”

“No,” Severus said with a wry smile. “WCIA agents are like Unspeakables in that they do not reveal their names. To anyone. No one would be able to refute Percy’s claim.”

Neville frowned. “Except the WCIA itself.”

“They will not refute it either. A national organisation has much more pressing concerns than a minor foreign spy, and if they are anything like the Unspeakables, they will _encourage_ such rumours as they make their true agents’ identities harder to verify.”

“Fair enough,” said Draco. “What should we say to those who _aren’t_ allies?”

“You say you don’t know,” said Harry. “No one will ask you though. None of you have any reason to associate with Percy beyond the… new Order, at least not that the public knows about.”

“Precisely,” said Severus. “And as for what Percy should do, I will train him myself.”

“What do we do in the meantime then?” Dean hugged his chest and closed his eyes, his tension palpable. “Harry, mate, Paul was with them—the Inner Circle. Obviously, he couldn’t have participated in the murders as a squib, but he’s in deep.” His knuckles whitened on his arms. “I… I can’t stand by and watch them ruin my brother. He’s only sixteen—too bloody young for this.”

Harry gave Dean a sad smile. “So were we.” He wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked forwards, trying to quell the growing pit of guilt and cold fear creeping into his veins. “S-Sev, are you sure—I don’t want to just sit by either. I… I can’t just let them die when I co—”

Severus held Harry’s face and shook his head. “Listen to me, Harry. The enemy we face now is essentially the same as before: a group of traditionalist purebloods who believe anyone who does not contribute to bringing more pureblood fascists into the world is an abomination and a curse on wizarding kind. Some of those purebloods fought on our side, but precious few. Most of them support Voldemort’s view of the world, even if they did not support his methods. They do _not_ view you as a saviour, so your reputation in the war will not help you with them.”

“But—”

“Then there is the fact that the Prophet has made you out to be the symbol of all things evil. To the traditionalists, you are not only an accursed homosexual, but a _famous_ accursed homosexual, and one they love to hate above all others, especially when you then compound their irritation over the outcome of the war to their already significant ire.”

Harry grimaced. “But, Sev—”

“Then there is the fact that these revolutionists have made you into a sort of rallying call for their group. What do you imagine will happen when they discover that you are firmly _against_ their beliefs and you announce your disapprobation for their methods? When you take away their support and one bit of clout, how do you imagine these murderous fools will see you then?”

“I… I….”

“As an enemy, of course,” said Draco with a scowl. “Harry, Severus is right. I know you feel responsible, but you’re _not_. You’re not the Chosen One this time. There’s no prophecy, no madman out to kill you personally and everyone you love. This is not your war, not this time.”

Harry’s eyelids stung. “H-how can you say that? Maybe I’m not the Chosen One now, but the people involved here are still my friends, still my family. How can you go to fight a war without me?”

Draco looked to Severus, who was trembling and ashen and desperately trying to hold back tears. “Because I love your partner as much as I love Nev, though in a different way, and if you go back to Britain right now, you’ll be dead before you land.”

Harry sniffled and wiped his eyes. “I love Sev too, Draco, but come on! I did all right in the battle, didn’t I? And I’ve learned a hell of a lot since then. I—”

Neville shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Harry. Right now, you’re one man against an entire country. You’re a gay man who has a life partner and doesn’t support the revolutionists, and the Prophet has made you into a scapegoat. The only people who support you right now are the _reasonable_ people, and they’re not fighting. They don’t even know there’s a battle _to_ fight yet. Draco’s right. You won’t live long no matter how strong you are.”

“But—”

“Harry, p-please. Please, listen to us.”

The break in Severus’ voice forced Harry to listen, to weigh what he might lose if he fought this time. Tears blinding him, he turned back to his partner and blinked his vision clear.

“Sev, I… gods, I’m sorry, love. Please don’t cry.”

Severus slipped his hand into Harry’s hair and held his partner close. His breath brushed Harry’s lips and cooled the tears on his cheeks as he spoke, his voice shaky and low.

“Harry, I know. I know you want to right all the wrongs in Britain. I blame Albus for your overdeveloped sense of responsibility—he turned a boy into a weapon with no thought to how it would affect him if he survived, how it would alter his life, and I am left to patch up your broken pieces.” Severus gave a bitter laugh. “And I am in no better shape.”

“Sev….” Harry winced and leaned back. “You think… I’m broken?”

“Pet, with everything you have endured, you have a right to be. And you are in good company regardless. The war left none of us unscathed.” Severus kissed Harry softly and cupped his face. “Do not fear, my Harry. I believe you are the most beautiful man in the world, and I love you with everything I am.”

A round of cheers and whoops met his quiet declaration. Severus flushed and ducked his head, his pendant on fire with his embarrassment.

“Hey, it’s okay, Sev.” Harry tipped up Severus’ chin and kissed him lightly. “They’re just happy for us. It’s all right.”

Tears tracked down Severus’ face. “No one has ever been happy for me, Harry. Not until you.”

Harry’s heart gave a painful thump. “Oh, Sev….”

Severus pressed his forehead against Harry’s and held him close, grief raining down his cheeks. “My beloved, do you understand what you mean to me? Do you understand what you have brought into my life? If I lose you, I do not simply lose a partner I love—I lose every happy memory, every positive experience—save for only my godson and my career, I lose everything worthwhile.” He clutched Harry’s cheeks and took a shuddering breath. “You are more than simply my partner, Harry. You are my entire world, and I c-cannot… I—please. Please, don’t fight this war. Not this time. I cannot bear to lose you.”

“Merlin,” Dean breathed. “I never imagined I would hear _that_ from Professor Snape….”

“Everything Severus loves is on the line,” said Draco with a sharp glare. “Of _course_ he’s emotional. And, I swear to the gods, Harry, if you still break his heart after that I’ll bloody gut you myself.”

“No. I can’t do that. I….” Harry choked back a sob and threw his arms around Severus’ neck. “Sev, oh gods. I… Merlin, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you like this. I can’t stand it when you cry. Oh, love. I’m here, I’m here. It’s all right.”

Severus held Harry so tight, he could hardly breathe. “Harry, I am begging you, please stay out of this war.”

Harry squirmed back just enough to meet Severus’ lips with his own. He stroked his partner’s hair and held him close, whispering words of love and faith between soft, soothing kisses.

“Okay,” he whispered, though it broke something within him to say it. “I… if it really hurts you this much, I’ll stay out. I won’t fight, if you’re really so certain I’ll be killed, but I… I can’t stand by and do nothing. I can’t sit on my hands while my friends are risking their lives. Will you let me help in other ways?”

Severus sighed into Harry’s hair. “Yes, of course, as long as you are safe.” He clutched Harry tight. “Forgive me, love. I know you want to fight. I simply cannot bear to risk you.”

“Right now,” said a bemused Padma, “this is all moot anyway. There’s no war yet, just a bunch of mad vigilantes.”

“No,” said Luna with a shiver, “but it’s coming, love. Soon.”

Padma winced and curled into Luna’s arms. “Is it… will it be bad?”

Luna winced. “I… the creatures don’t know. War is too complicated to predict.”

The others looked to Parvati, but she shook her head. “Luna’s right. There are too many threads of fate involved in war to accurately predict how bad it will be without a true beacon of prophecy, but war is definitely coming. This is just the start.”

“As soon as the purebloods realise they are the targets this time,” said Luna in a tone of grim certainty, “the war will begin in earnest.”

“Merlin help us all,” Neville whispered.

 

* * *

 

Severus shuddered and held Harry closer, alarm racing through him at the finality of Luna’s words. Britain’s authoritarian rule and prejudice had brought another war onto their heads. Gods, he didn’t want to think of it.

Thank Merlin he had brought Harry out of it beforehand. He couldn’t bear to lose him.

Maybe he should ask Harry to bond soon. Harry was sure. Severus was sure too. They had wonderful compatibility and a love strong enough to carry them through. As long as Harry didn’t resent him for asking him to stay out of the war, they would be all right.

On consideration, maybe he would give it another month or two and see how Harry felt then. In the meantime, they had a battle strategy to plan. Severus wouldn’t be on the front lines himself, of course, but his godson would. And Severus didn’t want to lose Draco either.

And Harry… gods, he would break if he lost anyone else. Beyond repair this time.

Merlin help them, Severus hoped everyone pulled through.

Well, if they didn’t, even if Harry broke into a million pieces and could never heal again, Severus would stay with him. Would stay by his side and hope that, one day, the knowledge that one person was his and his alone forever would bring some light into his shadows. Either way, Severus would love him always.

To that end, he had to help keep Harry’s friends alive as much as he could. Even….

“Granger,” said Severus with a frown. “Have any of you seen her?”

They gave him a bemused look.

“Hermione?” Padma shook her head. “She’s been lying low. I think she’s trying to avoid Ron and to heal.”

“She is,” said Parvati.

“We need to bring her in,” said Severus with a sigh. “She did leave the foul little bastard, so there is hope yet for her. And she may become a target otherwise.”

Padma nodded. “Leave it to me. ‘Mione and I were fairly close before… well, Harry.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to her yet,” Harry said, his voice shaky, “but I don’t want her to be hurt either. Make sure she’s okay? Please?”

“We will, Harry,” said Padma with a sad smile. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” he breathed.

Severus stroked Harry’s back and held him close. “I am here, pet.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Gods, I came to America to _avoid_ war, and it seems as though I will at least be an advisor in another. Well, it cannot be helped, though I wish to Merlin we could stop it.”

Neville snorted. “It’s ridiculous, really. All this pain just because homosexual wizards can’t carry on the bloodlines. Line-enders—paugh! If anything, the purebloods are the ones polluting and weakening the magic lines by marrying their own relatives. Pureblood magical strength has been diluting every generation because of it.” He scowled. “They’re the ones ruining their lines, not us.”

Harry nodded, his frustration apparent. “Yeah. All this—the homophobia, the war, the stupid laws—it would all be moot if gays could just have kids. Then the purebloods would have nothing to bitch about.” He sighed and dropped his head into his hand. “Too bad we can’t.”

Severus gasped, wonder, hope, and shock ringing through him clear to his toes. Oh gods! Gays having children— _was_ it possible? Not through surrogacy or adoption, but actual birth?

He settled his hand over Harry’s belly and wondered if he could make a potion to allow him to carry a child. Gods, the mere thought… tears of joy sprang to his eyes. A dream of Harry heavy with child and glowing with joy—oh, gods, what he wouldn’t give to make it reality!

Or hell, he would even be thrilled to carry them himself—and as a wizard, he still had plenty of time left before he was too old— _if_ he could figure out how to work around the fact that neither parent had a womb. It seemed impossible, but magic could do so many things that had been impossible until someone conceived it and made it happen. Gods, he wanted to make it happen for them, and not just for the hope of ending the war before it began.

He wanted a family with Harry, a family all their own. He wanted to be a father.

But _how_? How could he give a man a womb and the ability to conceive or allow a woman to become pregnant without sperm?

Something tickled the back of his mind, a germ of an idea forgotten among a thousand other worries. It struck him as important, crucial to his new project, but he failed to recall it. Gods, how bloody frustrating. It was there, in the back of his mind somewhere, if only he knew where to look….

“Sev?” Harry turned and held his partner’s cheek. “Love, what is it? Your pendant is absolutely _vibrating_ with emotions. So many I can’t keep track.”

“I am trying to think of a way….” Severus took Harry’s hands and gathered his courage to ask his partner if he was willing to try for children. He had the words on the tip of his tongue when a burst of flames materialised on the hearth and startled him speechless.

 _“Oh my,”_ Fawkes said, his voice troubled. _“What has happened, companions?”_

 _“Murder,”_ Harry began in a grim tone. _“The Flints are dead and Parvati and Luna say there’s another war around the corner. We were just discussing how to handle it.”_

Fawkes gave a sorrowful trill. _“Why must humans insist on destroying each other?”_ He sighed and alighted on Harry’s shoulder. _“My kind abhors it—death and destruction. I do not understand humans’ fascination with bloodshed.”_

 _“You’re not alone. We hate it too.”_ Harry petted Fawkes and ruffled the feathers along his back, revealing the bright yellow pinions under his fiery quills.

Harry went on talking to his familiar and catching him up, but Severus heard nothing after that point.

Oh gods. He knew how to do it. He knew how to give them children.

_“They do wonders for maternity potions….”_

Severus cried, “Phoenix pinions!”

Neville had been in the middle of speaking, but everyone stopped dead and turned to look at him, their expressions bemused.

Harry frowned at his husband. “Uh… what about them, love?”

“Phoenix pinions—they might just be the answer to all of our problems.” He gently set Harry off his lap and held his arm out for their phoenix. “Fawkes, would you be willing to part with a few of yours for my research?”

The bird nodded. _“If it saves lives, but what do you plan to do with them?”_

Severus beamed. “I plan to give us the option of making bloodlines of our own.”

Harry shot up, eyes wide with wonder. “Oh gods! Sev, really? Kids, for us?”

“Well, so I hope. It may not be possible even with Fawkes’ pinions, but if I can manage to make a potion for same-sex pregnancy….” Severus took a deep breath and clasped Harry’s hands. “I… there is no one I love more than you. Would you be willing to bear for me, or to help me to conc—?”

“Oh, _Severus_!” Harry threw his arms around his partner’s neck and kissed his breath away, answering his question in the best way possible.


	14. Down to Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No warnings for this chapter. I have some plot done for most of the story now. It needs editing, but at least I have a direction for this one again. Sheesh. It's killing me._

#  **Chapter 14**

##  _Down to Business_

### August 18, 1999

Severus led Harry’s phoenix into the lab, his heart racing with anticipation. A glass cauldron—important for potions to aid in pregnancy—sat on his lab range, surrounded by a plethora of ingredients to induce fertility and several more with transformative properties. A male medical manikin lay on the table behind him, accurate in every detail, even down to his simulated life, though his face looked too generic to be realistic.

Severus set Fawkes on the perch he had transfigured from an old stirring rod earlier in the day and petted the bird’s head. “Thank you for your assistance with this, old friend. With any luck, perhaps we might soon bring about a revolution in wizarding Britain with no need for further bloodshed.” Heat traced up his cheeks and made his ears tingle. “And perhaps Harry and I might have a family soon.”

Fawkes trilled happily and turned his back, nuzzling along his feathers with his beak. A short jerk and a small squawk later, Severus had a fresh phoenix pinion in hand. _“Good luck, Severus, and so long as you allow my feathers to grow back between rounds, you may have all the pinions I have to offer.”_

Severus petted the bird’s warm feathers. “I shan’t ask so much of you, but thank you.” He dropped the pinion into a crystal phial and set it on a special shelf above his cauldron. “Right. Now, we shall begin planning.” He sat at his lab desk and removed his potions journal and a quill and ink from the drawer. “I shall be here for a while most likely, Fawkes. You are welcome to stay if you wish, or you may leave if you are bored.”

_“I will watch for now, my friend. Albus ran many ideas by me when he worked on magic creation. Perhaps I may offer more assistance than simply the use of my pinions.”_

Severus smiled through a pang of loss. “Very well. I would welcome any suggestions you have. Now, I think that baby’s breath will be crucial to this potion. And perhaps vervain.”

Fawkes cocked his head and shrugged, and Severus set to work.

 

* * *

 

Harry sipped hot chai tea—Lacey had gotten him hooked on it—and watched a crime drama, laughing over the idiots’ mistakes. Merlin, Severus would have a field day with those supposed CSI agents, if they actually existed. Tim enjoyed it, and Harry had started watching it so they could talk about it together. He doubted the actors would make it very far on a real force, but the show was entertaining nonetheless.

A commercial came on, and Harry stood to grab some biscuits—cookies here. He would never get used to that. Who on earth had decided on _that_ name for them? With a wry smile, he grabbed a box of Oreos and settled on the sofa for the next scene.

But before the commercials ended, a familiar owl swooped in through the post window. Harry gave it a wary look. “Listen, Hermes, your owner’s ex is out to kill me, so I’m just going to check for curses and trackers, all right?”

The owl bobbed his head, and Harry scanned the bird. He came up clean, so Harry removed a missive from his leg. “I know you’ve had one hell of a journey, so you can borrow my phoenix’s perch for a bit. He’s helping my partner work on an experiment for the moment, so I don’t think he’ll mind.”

Harry tipped a bit of leftover sausage from breakfast into a bowl for the owl and returned to the sofa, hands shaking as he opened the Muggle-style envelope Hermione had sent him. He wished he could call for Severus, but he had no idea where the man was in his experiments and he had no desire to make the man’s cauldron blow up in his face. Steeling himself for what he knew would hurt, he opened the letter and read.

 

> Harry,
> 
> Hello. How are you doing? Are you recovering well?
> 
> I’ve heard you’ve started the warding program at uni. Good for you! Our wards in the forest were always extra-strong when it was your turn to cast. How are you doing in classes? Are you keeping a revision timetable?
> 
> I wish you were here. Or rather, I wish it was safe for you to come home. I miss you terribly.
> 
> I imagine you’re still angry and mistrustful of me. It’s okay. I would be too in your shoes. I was so incredibly stupid. It was just… once I was with him, it became harder and harder to leave. He started mucking about with my head, and before long, I thought I had no worth without him. Well, books and cleverness, but what does that matter in the end?
> 
> Anthony Goldstein asked me out last week. I… I turned him down. He’s a nice boy, and I think we’d be far more compatible than Ron and I were, but I’m just not in a good place yet. I still keep thinking of him, and it makes me so angry with myself. Harry, how do I heal? How do we go back to the way things used to be—only without the berk who destroyed both of us?
> 
> Love,  
>  Hermione

 

Harry took a shaky breath and put the letter away. Gods. He had no idea how to respond. He thought Hermione’s recovery from Ron was probably normal—he’d read a bit about domestic abuse since she had left him, and her behaviours sounded fairly typical, as far as he knew. But to go back to the way things used to be? Even if Harry _did_ want to go back to Britain—and the UK had lost all appeal for him long ago—nothing would ever be the same again. He might forgive her one day, but the fact that Hermione had stayed with a man who had tried to kill Harry would always shadow their relationship in the future.

Harry had once trusted her absolutely, but she had thrown that all away, for good.

With a sigh, he decided to write back with friendly news but no personal information, and to ignore her last sentence. He wasn’t cruel enough to tell her she had ruined all chances of ever re-establishing their former camaraderie, but neither was he ready to let her back into his life completely. Severus was his best friend now. Hermione would simply have to settle for that.

 

### August 22, 1999

Percy made his way to the aurors’ evidence locker, conjured purple criminal folder tucked under his elbow in case anyone questioned him, but he wasn’t there to play secretary. He kept up his usual behaviour as much as possible until the evidence locker door had closed behind him, then surreptitiously checked that he was alone, and warded the door as soon as he verified it. Rushing in case someone came, he rifled through the records by hand, fearful a Summoning charm would leave a magical marker on the file.

“Flax, Fleet, Flinn, ah, there we are.”

Quickly, Percy pulled the Flint murder file by hand and cast a duplicating charm, sending the copied crime reports to the purple file under his arm. Once they finished transferring, Percy wiped the record of the last spell performed on the folder and replaced it with care. Shame the spell would only work once, or he might have just Summoned the records after all.

“Back to work for me.”

He turned the purple folder into plain manila, unwarded the door, and made his way out as if he had every right to be there. As the court scribe, technically, he _did_ have the right, but the Wizengamot wouldn’t see it that way if they caught him copying evidence. Still, Percy had long since learned that fewer people questioned a man who acted with confidence, so he hid all signs of nervousness and made his way up to his office in his usual jaunty manner.

No one bothered him, thank Merlin.

With a sigh, Percy settled behind his desk and removed the copied evidence from his folder. Another sigh escaped him at the realisation that the typical brand of auror incompetence marked the report all over. No, even _worse_ than typical. The aurors had taken one look at the symbol painted on the wall, assumed the presence of a new Dark Lord, and left it at that. They had barely collected any evidence at all.

“Dear fucking Merlin,” he muttered to himself. “And they wonder why You-Know-Who got away with murder.” He scoffed and tossed the folder aside. “Useless. Absolutely useless.”

With a groan, Percy dropped his head against the back of his seat and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Damn. If I want the truth, it looks like I’ll have to find it the old-fashioned way.” But gods. It had been four days already. Any evidence left at the scene would probably be unusable by now.

Shaking his head, he Banished the report to his secret drawer and resigned himself to searching Flint Manor that night. It was his only option if he hoped to prevent another tragedy like the last.

 

* * *

 

Percy snuck into the manor after midnight. Thank Merlin the aurors had dismantled the Flints’ family wards. Else, he wouldn’t have been able to bypass them. As it was, he only had to mute his magical signature and deactivate the Ministry wards—he might have left those, but they logged the names of anyone who stepped onto the property and kept a record of all their activities while on the lot.

A careful charm to cover his footsteps, masked with a borderline-dark ward Percy had placed on his person prior to entering the grounds, would keep him safe enough from detection. It would be the only spell he used within the manor—any others risked alerting the Ministry to his presence. He would simply have to collect evidence in bags and phials and investigate it at home. Thank Merlin he had a pensieve. He needn’t even take photos, as his memories would do well enough, so long as he made a point to observe every detail carefully.

The silence oppressed him as he picked his way around the place. He found and took a careful quick-dry plaster imprint of a footprint outside the first floor window, but found precious little other evidence. The aurors had already scrubbed the mark off the walls, and the killing curse left no evidence behind.

He did find a bit of dried blood against the sharp corner of an old table and a few scattered fingerprints along the top, but he doubted it would do much good. The Wizarding world’s forensic resources left much to be desired. He wouldn’t find a database of fingerprints or DNA at the Ministry, or even blood type. The Ministry did everything by magic, and ignored anything that didn’t fall into its spectrum, to their cost.

Still, perhaps Percy could identify the suspect by fingerprinting used drinking glasses and such. It wasn’t much of a chance, but it was the only idea he had.

With a morose sigh, Percy packed up his search and left the manor, picking up his now-dry footprint cast on the way. A quick flick of the wrist restored the Ministry wards once he was well outside their range, and with no other option, Percy headed home for the night to record the results of his pitiful haul.

As soon as he entered his flat, he froze at a buzzing sound somewhere near his study.

“What in the world?”

His heart leapt into his throat. Had the Ministry discovered him snooping about and sent him a subpoena? Chest tight with alarm, Percy dashed after the buzzing sound, tracing it not to a howler or subpoena, but to the Alliance coin he had left on his desk that evening—a rendition of the coins Harry had used for the DA. Good thing he had left it behind. The magic in the coin would have alerted the Ministry had it gone off while Percy was investigating.

Relief washing away the coldness of dread, Percy picked up the coin and tapped it with his wand. Green letters flashed across the screen. _“Meet us at the hideout at 1 AM. We have news. Pack an overnight bag—Muggle fashion. Draco and Neville.”_

Percy checked the clock above his desk and winced. It was already almost two. Draco would be beyond irritated, assuming he had waited so long.

With a grimace, Percy left his evidence in his pockets and dashed up the stairs to pack. In the interest of time, he ignored his typical fastidious nature and stuffed some clothing willy-nilly into the bag. A creeping feeling of irritation trickled down his spine, but he ignored it. Magic would take the wrinkles from his clothes easily enough.

A few moments later, he had a bag packed with the necessities, and apparated on the spot to their hideout in the back of Anthony Goldstein’s grounds. The old shack at the edge of the property had once served as a playhouse for the children, but with all the Goldsteins of age, it had since fallen into disuse.

A fuming Draco met him at the door. “What in Merlin’s name _took_ so long?”

Percy flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t have my coin on me, actually.”

“Why the hell not? You know we’re not supposed to leave them!”

“I had to, Draco. I was investigating Flint Manor, and the magic in the coin would have ensured my capture.”

Draco deflated a bit, though irritation still marked his expression. “Oh. Did you find anything?”

Percy grimaced. “Not much. A footprint, a drop of blood, and a few fingerprints. The aurors had already removed everything else, and the report was utter bollocks. They wrote, and I quote: ‘New dark lord attack.’ That was extent of their _conclusions_.”

“Utter berks,” said Neville from around the corner. “They’re completely useless.”

“You’re telling me.” Percy rubbed his forehead and slumped into the nearest seat. “Is there a reason you two wanted me to come here past midnight?”

“Ginny’s here too. She’s just napping.” Draco raised his voice. “Oi! Ginny! The giant prat is _finally_ here.”

Ginny snorted in her sleep and jerked awaked. “Huh? What? Oh. Percy? Are you here?”

“Yes,” Percy answered.

The girl staggered out of a dark corner of the shack, wrapped in one of their mum’s knitted blankets and yawning. The sight of her blanket sent a sharp pang of grief through Percy’s chest. He turned away to hide how much his family’s hatred hurt, even now.

Ginny sat beside him and rubbed her eyes. “So what’s going on? Will you two tell us now?”

“In part.” Draco smoothed back his hair and sighed. “Ginny, we’re going to Harry. There’s a damn good reason he hasn’t contacted you in person yet, but we’ve all decided it’s time to bring the both of you in. The thing is, you have to swear not to reveal what you see there. More than just Harry’s life is on the line.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying he has a partner. A male partner.”

Draco frowned. “Well, yes, but that’s not the dangerous bit. So, will you?”

She nodded. “I’ve kept his secrets for years. I won’t stop now.”

Neville patted her shoulder. “Percy?”

“Of course. I’d never endanger him.”

“Good.” Draco held out his hands. “We’re apparating to my place and flooing out to California, which is why I asked you to meet us so late. It’s… er… about six in the evening there. Now, brace yourselves.”

Percy stood and took Draco’s hand. “For the floo trip or Harry’s secret?”

“Both.” Neville took Draco’s other hand and Ginny’s, and the next instant, they stood in Malfoy Manor’s drawing room. Narcissa was nowhere in sight.

“Mother is asleep now,” Draco whispered. “Let’s keep it that way. She doesn’t know Harry’s secret, and I doubt she would be able to keep it quiet if she did.”

Percy nodded and followed Draco to the floo, walking on the balls of his feet, steps mostly silent. Draco knelt before the fire and tossed in a pinch of floo powder. “Harry Potter’s flat, San Francisco, California.” The flames turned red. “ _Praelia_.” The fire shifted to green, and Draco vanished.

Ginny whispered, “ _Praelia_ is the floo password?”

Neville nodded and went after Draco. Percy let Ginny go next, then brought up the rear. He spent the next several moments—or perhaps an eternity—dodging floo walls and spinning about until he had to hold in his dinner with a hand against his mouth. Then, the infernal whirling stopped, _finally_ , and Percy staggered out of the floo. A stomach soothing spell from ahead eased his nausea, and he leaned on his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

“T-thank you,” he gasped out after a moment. “Merlin, that was a hell of a ride.”

A deep voice he had thought never to hear again answered. “Indeed.”

Percy jerked up, shock and wonder ringing through him. Dear gods, had he flooed into an alternate dimension rather than a different continent? Professor Severus Snape stood before him, alive and in better shape than Percy had ever seen him, arm around Harry’s shoulders and expression as unyielding as ever. Harry’s expression held the same hard strength, but his arm around the professor’s waist was gentle.

“P-Professor?” Percy could only thank his lucky stars it hadn’t come out in a squeak. “You’re _alive_?”

The first sign of mirth crinkled the corners of Snape’s dark eyes. “Obviously.”

Percy sank to his knees. “Dear _Merlin_.”

 

* * *

 

“So you see, Gin,” Harry said, his voice firm but his heart trembling, “I couldn’t come sooner because I had to protect Severus. Until I knew you would keep him safe… I just couldn’t risk it.”

Percy and Ginny sat on Harry’s sofa, eyes round as galleons and red-rimmed from either tears or exhaustion. Draco and Neville leaned against the wall nearby, watching the explanation and offering silent support.

Harry sat in Severus’ lap in his armchair and tried to keep it together. Fear for Severus had all but overwhelmed him, and the Weasley siblings had hardly spoken two words since Draco and Neville had brought them through. Luna had assured him they would be all right, but what if she was wrong? Would Ginny reveal Severus in a fit of jealousy? Would Percy in anger that he hadn’t been told sooner?

Severus held Harry closer and kissed his neck just under his ear. “What Harry said is true, but not our only reason for keeping silent. I do not want Harry in Britain at all. The climate there is so hostile, particularly against him, that I fear he would be killed before he set foot in the country. So I have asked him to stay out of the conflict as much as possible.”

“And he should do,” said Neville with a firm nod. “It’s far too dangerous, and the both of you have already done your bit.”

Ginny, who had tensed and opened her mouth to speak a moment ago, closed it again and slumped against the sofa. “I suppose you’re right.”

“He is,” said Draco. “We’re not letting Harry anywhere near this war.”

“Not sure he’ll have much of a choice,” said Percy with a grimace. “The Revolution is using his name as their rallying cry.”

“We’ll have that sorted Sunday,” said Neville with a smirk. “The Prophet will be very surprised by their own headlines that day.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. “We wanted to wait for more evidence on the Flint case to come in. We were hoping we could pin the crime on them at the same time. But with what you said about the report and what little evidence was left at the scene, that doesn’t sound likely.”

Severus sat straighter. “What evidence?”

Percy shook himself out of his shock. “Er… well, I searched the manor tonight and snuck a peek at the auror report. The report was completely useless, but I did find a bit of dried blood against a table at the manor—it looked like someone caught their leg on a sharp edge. Someone unfamiliar with the house, most likely. I collected fingerprints from the top of the same table and took a plaster cast of a footprint below the drawing room window, but that’s all I could find. I didn’t dare scan for magical signatures with the Ministry monitoring the place.”

Severus’ hand clenched on the arm of the chair. “Did you cover your tracks?”

“Yes, sir. I used the _Occaceo Vestigium_ charm to cover my footprints and physical traces, and the _Occulto Medeis Anima_ charm to mask my magical signature. I used no other spells within the wards, and I was careful not to touch the evidence with anything but the collection equipment, which I had cleaned prior to the search with Muggle methods so as not to cause magical cross-contamination.”

Judging by the feedback through Harry’s pendant, Severus was impressed.

“You used blood magic to hide your trail?”

Ginny, Draco, and Neville whipped their heads around and stared at Percy.

Percy gulped. “Um… y-yes, sir.”

“Well done.”

Percy’s breath left him in a rush. “Really? You… Merlin! I never thought _you_ would praise my work. I mean, you’re a master spy. I’m just trying not to be killed.”

Severus snorted. “Yes, much of spying is attempting to avoid an early demise. Do you have the evidence you collected protected?”

“Yes, I warded the collection bags against physical and magical interference.”

“You forgot to ward it against outright mental manipulation then, but no matter. So long as you have avoided Legilimentes since collecting your samples, they should be safe. Do you have them?”

Percy nodded and stood. “Um, right here, sir.” He removed a carefully wrapped parcel from his trouser pocket and handed it to Severus.

“In the future, do not keep such valuable information in your trousers. You should wear a vest or jacket at all times you perform spy work and attach an undetectable, expandable, warded pocket to the inner front flap.”

Percy blushed. “Y-yes, sir. Is it ruined?”

“No. I think, with so little evidence to start with, it will not be an issue this time.” Severus took the parcel and set it on the end table. “I will examine that later. Perhaps I may be able to trace a magical signature through the blood, if the trail has not gone cold.” He settled his arms around Harry once more. “Now, I believe the both of you can understand the need for absolute secrecy as concerns my identity and Harry’s place of residence. Can we trust you to keep our secrets?”

“Absolutely, sir,” said Percy with a salute.

Harry suppressed a snicker. His hero worship of Severus was cute. Then again…. With a level look at Percy, he slid and arm around Severus’ shoulders and kissed his partner. Thoroughly. Let Percy challenge him now.

“Yes, yes,” Severus said with an amused smile. “We all know I am yours now, Harry.”

Harry blushed and laughed at himself. “Sorry, not sorry.”

“I’m not going to try to steal him away, Harry,” said Percy, his eyes round. “But I’m also not going to deny that was the damned hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Severus’ face flushed to his ears. “Percy!”

“Down boy,” said Ginny with a laugh.

Percy chuckled and muttered, “Need to find a man of my own already.”

“Yes, you do.” Ginny patted her brother’s knee and gave Harry a wry smile. “So, Harry, you found your prince after all, huh?”

“More like he found me,” said Harry in a soft, warm voice. “And I wasn’t whole until he did.”

“You are still not whole.” Severus eased Harry to rest against him. “You are still recovering from the loss of your home and your friends and family. But you are doing well, and I am happy to see you healing.”

“So am I,” said Ginny. “I’m glad you’re happy again. And you too, Professor. I’m relieved that you’re okay. You really did deserve better than the hand Britain dealt you.”  

Severus snorted. “No homosexual wizard in Britain will find their lot a fair one, not until we can do something about the attitudes of the public. So, on that note, Percy, if you will follow me, I will show you how to analyse this evidence properly and store it for further perusal later.”

“Yes, sir!” Percy leapt to his feet, looking like Christmas had come early, and followed Severus into the lab.

Once they had gone, Draco and Neville shared a look.

“Well, Harry,” said Draco, “it's quite late in Britain, so Nev and I are going home now. Unless you need us?”

Harry glanced to his former fiancée. “I think Ginny and I need to talk.”

Neville gave Harry a hug. “We’re always a floo call away if you need us, all right?”

“Thanks, mate, but I think we’ll be okay.”

“Goodnight then,” said Draco. “We’ll keep you posted.”

“Of course. Goodnight.”

Neville and Draco flooed back to Malfoy manor, leaving Harry and Ginny alone. The silence stretched between them, heavy with broken promises and things unsaid.

Ginny spoke first, her voice soft and full of pain. “Harry… was anything between us real?”

Harry gave her a sad smile. “I wanted it to be, Gin. I tried to make it real, for your sake. But in the end, I just can’t be what you need. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I know. I’m sorry too, you know. About my family and the way I handled this. If I’d known what was holding you back, I’d have just let you go without making a fuss. I thought… for a while, I thought there was another woman.”

Harry shook his head. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. I just… can’t love you in _that_ way. Severus stole my heart in sixth year and he never gave it back.”

Ginny chuckled wryly. “I think I knew that, somewhere in the back of my mind. I just didn’t want to admit it.” She wiped her eyes and gave him a brave smile. “Well, at least he’s a good man. I’m glad he treats you so well. I was afraid, at first, that he would still be cruel to you. But he obviously loves you.”

“Yeah. It’s been a dream come true with him.” He leaned on his knees and lowered his head. “I just wish everything else wasn’t such a bloody nightmare.”

“Don’t we all,” she said, her tone morose. “Don’t we all.”


	15. Upping the Ante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No warnings. Sorry updates are so slow on this. It's really an uphill battle to get anything usable out of this story. I'm not sure why I started hating it like halfway through, but that's where we are right now. Hopefully by the time it gets closer to endgame, I'll feel a little better about it. Anyway, I do at least have a working outline for now, though there are things I've yet to add._

#  **Chapter 15**

##  _Upping the Ante_

### August 23, 1999

Severus led Percy into the living room, shoulders slumped with disappointment. Damn. Percy had done well, finding what he had after the aurors had cleared the manor, but the evidence had degraded too far to reveal much of substance. Even with his specialised spells created to mimic the effects of Muggle forensic equipment, he had little information to work with.

Harry looked up from the San Francisco Gazette and a cup of coffee. “Morning, love, Percy. Any luck?”

Percy shook his head and sank onto the sofa beside Harry. “We did what we could, but the samples were simply too far degraded to offer much information. We did learn the suspect is definitely male, probably Caucasian, and wears a size forty shoe, but as we already know the leader fits that bill, it doesn’t tell us anything new besides his shoe size, which won’t help much.”

“But it does mean that said leader is absolutely a suspect,” said Severus, settling onto the sofa arm beside Harry. “Which is something.”

Harry gently pulled Severus into his lap. “Mm, I had thought we were already sure he’s behind it?”

“Well, yes, but the fact that the evidence backs that suspicion is always good, not that we have much to speak of.” Severus frowned and rubbed his chin. “There is _one_ other clue, and it is significant, but nothing we can use at the moment. Whoever this leader is, I know him.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “What makes you say that, love?”

“There was a faint magical signature on the blood trace. Unfortunately, it is not enough to follow, but I could swear I’ve felt it before, somewhere.”

“A Death Eater?”

“Possibly, but it could also be a former neighbour for all I know. I need more information before I can tell you anything definite.”

“Well, at least the fact that you know him from somewhere narrows our suspect pool a bit,” said Percy.

“Did you forget I taught at Hogwarts for twenty years?” Severus shook his head wryly. “Between that, potions conferences, consults for St. Mungo’s, and Death Eaters rallies and victims, the fact that I have felt the press of his magic before has most likely _expanded_ our suspect pool rather than diminished it.”

Percy grimaced. “Damn.”

“Indeed.” Severus swiped Harry’s coffee and took a sip. It wasn’t quite sweet enough for him, but Merlin, he needed the caffeine.

“You’re welcome,” said an amused Harry. “I _did_ make a cup for you and Percy, you know.”

“Oh. Forgive me. I am afraid I am quite tired. _Accio_ coffee!”

Harry caught Percy’s cup and handed it to him, and Severus took the other.

“Ah, that _is_ better.” Severus passed Harry’s coffee back and leaned against his partner. “You do make a good cup of coffee.”

“Yes, I’ve learned how you like it.” Harry kissed Severus’ cheek and leaned against the sofa. “There are also scones and jam, and Ellie made bangers and mash, if you two are hungry.”

“I’ll take a scone,” said Percy, who was busy spooning cream and sugar into his coffee, “but after that I’ve got to get back to the Ministry.”

“What time is it in Britain?”

Percy frowned. “Er… it’s eight hours ahead for us, so… about three in the afternoon, I think. Thank Merlin, I had the day off, but I do need to run by my office before I head home for a kip.”

“Fair enough.” Harry toyed with Severus’ hair and set his coffee aside. “Are you going into work today, love?”

Severus shook his head. “I won’t be teaching this year—”

Percy frowned. “You won’t?”

“No. I need time to pursue my own studies. I am halfway through achieving a PhD in medicine and nearly finished with a course in Mediwizardry, with an emphasis in internal medicine, but with my position at the hospitals, as well as my research on the murders and for the creation of a same sex pregnancy potion, my time is simply stretched too thin.”

Percy choked on his coffee and would have spat it across the room, had Harry not conjured a quick shield around his mouth and Banished the resulting mess to the sink.

“ _What_ did you say, sir?”

Severus smirked. “I am making great headway on the creation of a potion which allows same sex couples to conceive and carry a pregnancy to term. As of yet, I have only managed to make progress with male parents—or rather, genetics, as it is not ready for human testing at this phase—but the feminine variety is coming along nicely too. I simply have to account for the fact that usual female-upon-female relations do not allow for an internal exchange of bodily fluids. Once I have worked past that hurdle, it should do well, or so I hope.”

“Pregnancy potion,” Percy breathed. “You mean to tell me, when you’ve finished this experiment, I’ll be able to have a child of my own—without a surrogate and the involvement of a woman? And the rest of us too? We could continue our lines without pretending to be hetero?”

Severus smiled. “Yes, precisely. Harry has volunteered to be the first to try it as soon as it is finished.”

Percy gasped. “Oh sweet Merlin. Do you know what effect that would have on our world? The _Boy-Who-Lived_ , the first man to be pregnant by another man? It would completely devastate the bigots’ foothold in society! We might really have a chance to make our world a better place, and without bloodshed!”

“That was the idea,” Severus said with a chuckle. “Well, beyond that we wish to have a family of our own.”

Percy gave a stunned Severus a kiss full on the mouth. “You wonderful, brilliant man. You might just save us all.”

“Hands off,” said a distinctly unamused Harry. “I don’t share.”

Percy laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean it like that. I was just—Merlin! I can’t believe it. Gods, Harry! This will change everything.”

“Trust me,” Harry said in a dark tone, “I’ll be changing some things about your anatomy if you kiss him again. Bloody idiot.”

Percy grimaced and stood. “You’ve been taking lessons in intimidation from the old Professor Snape, Harry. And on that note, I’d better get back to Britain. Sorry if I shocked you, sir. I really didn’t mean anything by it. Just lost my head there for a bit.”

Severus gave him a dazed nod. “D-don’t forget to ask for a week off soon.”

“Next week. The Wizengamot is taking a break, so I should be able to escape them fairly easily.”

“Good.” Severus waited until Percy had made it to the fire before he called in a cold voice, “Oh, and Percival? If you _dare_ kiss me again, Harry is not the only one who will be rearranging your anatomy.”

Percy coughed. “U-understood, sir. Hands off from now on. Merlin.”

Severus snorted and waved to the fire. “Go on then.”

“Right. Go, um….” Percy shook himself and tossed a pinch of floo powder in. “The Ministry of Magic, Atrium, London.”

The flames turned green, and Percy dashed in.

“I think we scarred him for life,” Severus said with a smirk.

“Definitely.” Harry traced his fingertips up and down Severus’ spine. “Did I ever tell you how bloody sexy that dark tone of yours is? Makes me want to be a little intimidated.”

Severus’ eyebrow shot up. “Indeed?” He set his coffee aside and draped his arms over Harry’s shoulders. “Well, Mister Potter, it just so happens you have been quite naughty.”

Harry’s eyes danced. “Have I now? I suppose I’ve a few detentions coming, then?”

“Oh, I believe I can be more… _creative_ with my punishments.”

Harry shivered and set his coffee beside Severus’. “After you, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Late that night, the British papers came through the floo, courtesy of Luna. She poked her head in the fireplace with a grimace. “Better be sitting down for these, Harry.”

Harry grabbed the papers with a wince. “Lovely. Though I _am_ glad to see you, Lu. How are you and Padma?”

“Just fine, thank you. You’ll be calling back in a little bit though, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to grab a spot of breakfast while you’re reading.”

Harry chuckled wryly. “In that case, just come on through when you’re done and bring anyone who can come in with you. Severus is busy in the lab, but he ought to be finishing up soon. I’ll check in and see if he can come to a stopping point before I read this.”

“That would be wise. You’ll need him there to keep you from murdering people.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It is certainly not pleasant.”

Harry sighed and set the papers on the sofa, carefully avoiding the headlines. “Right. Off with you then, Lu, and tell Padma Sev’s made some progress on the female version of his same sex pregnancy potion. It’s still not ready, but he thinks he has some ideas on how to overcome the… er… technical difficulties.”

Luna beamed. “Oh, I will. I can’t wait!”

“You’re going to be such a good mum, Lu. Both of you will be.”

“Yes, I know. The triplets will love us.”

“ _Triplets_? Sweet Merlin!” Harry snorted. “Wait. You already know you’re having triplets and you haven’t even conceived?”

“Perils of being a Seer. And the partner of an identical twin.”

Harry laughed softly. “True! Well, go on then. I’m going to grab Sev. We’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yes. Give us about an hour to eat and gather the others.”

“Sure thing.” Harry blew Luna a kiss and waved, watching as she disappeared through the flames. “Triplets! Bloody hell. That’ll rock the wizarding world off its foundations, and it’s about damn time.” He went to the lab, being sure to make a bit of noise so he didn’t startle Severus. “Love, are you too busy to talk for a moment?”

Severus’ reply came through the door. “I am skilled enough to hold a conversation and brew at the same time. Come in, pet.”

Harry stuck his head in the door and waved to Fawkes, who was perched above Severus’ work cauldron and watching the brew within with interest. “Hey there, Fawkes.” The phoenix greeted him with a trill. “So, how’s the new test coming, love?”

“So far, it is going well,” said Severus with a smile, “but I will need more time before I can tell you if it is successful.” He added several pinches of what looked like rosemary, but probably wasn’t. “What do you need, Harry? Or did you simply wish for my company?”

“Both. The papers came through, and Luna warned me I’ll need… grounding before I read them.” He chuckled softly. “She also told me your female version of the potion will be a bit more successful than we had anticipated.”

“Oh?”

“She’s foreseen triplets for her and Padma.”

“Merlin!” Severus’ grin lit up his entire face. “Oh, that _is_ wonderful news. I have been rather worried.” He stirred the potion slowly, alternating directions every three stirs. “Perhaps this batch will be the one to bring our hopes to fruition.”

 _“Oh, I do hope so,”_ said Fawkes. _“I am running out of down.”_

Severus petted the bird’s head briefly. “We shall let your feathers grow before I begin a new batch, then.”

_“I am only teasing, Severus. You have been very careful not to overtax me.”_

“Ah. That is good to know.” He added a pinch of something red Harry had never seen and stirred anticlockwise. “I am nearly finished with this test. Afterwards, I will be able to place the brew in stasis and join you.”

“I’ll just watch while you’re working then,” Harry said with a smile. “I do love watching you in action. You’re so brilliant.”

Severus gave him a soft smile. “I rather enjoy having you with me anyway. It gets a bit lonely in here sometimes, though Fawkes makes for excellent company and is quite skilled at assisting, considering he is a phoenix.”

Fawkes chirped agreement. _“I have had several lessons from a certain mutual friend.”_

Severus’ smile faded. “Yes. I do miss him.”

“So do we all, even on his manipulative bastard days.” Harry wrapped his arms around Severus from behind and kissed his shoulder. “I’m here, love.”

“Thank you. This is… mm. I rather enjoy it.”

Harry kissed along the edge of his shoulder down to his spine and laid his head against the curve of Severus’ neck. “It’s comforting for me, too.”

“Hold me like this whenever you wish, so long as I am not brewing something volatile.”

Severus laid his free hand over Harry’s and stroked his fingertips. Harry felt his muscles bunch and shift as he stirred in another ingredient.

“Ah, there. I believe this is ready now.” He placed the cauldron in stasis and turned to embrace Harry from the front. “Come, I am ready if you are.”

“Right. Let’s just get this over with then. Come on, Fawkes. I might need your help to stay calm too.”

Fawkes alighted on Harry’s shoulder and nuzzled his cheek. _“Whatever nonsense they have printed this time, we will counteract it as soon as possible.”_

Harry nodded and petted the bird’s neck. “True. And Luna did say she would bring as many of our press crew as she can wrangle over in about fifty minutes or so.”

“Then, with any luck, we shall have it corrected by tomorrow night,” Severus soothed.

“One can hope.”

Harry guided Severus to their favourite chair, perched himself in the man’s lap, and waited until his strong, loving arms wrapped him in warmth and security before he Summoned the Prophet. “Right. Let’s just see how bad it is.” He opened the paper and, before he had even finished the headline, his knuckles went white around the pages.

####  ** Harry Potter Speaks Out in Support of Radical Revolutionists; Says Line-Enders Should Rule All! **

Harry took a few deep breaths to prevent himself burning the paper to ash before he could read the rest and determine exactly how much he would need to counter. “Fucking arseholes,” he bit out, and forced his attention back to the article.

   

> _Last evening, the anonymous leader of a mysterious organisation of line-enders and apologists known only as the Revolution and several of his underlings surrounded this reporter on my way home from work and apparated me away against my will to an unknown location. I was terrified I would be killed, but said leader only handed me a document, which I later determined to be a list of ultimatums, and then demanded its printing in the morning paper. This reporter was forced into a magical vow, and so, said list is as follows:_
> 
> _“We, the people of the Revolution, and all fair-minded people of British descent, hereby present the cruel, bigoted leaders of Wizarding Britain with the following list of demands:_
> 
>   1. _All current legislation decrying homosexual, pansexual, bisexual, asexual, transsexual, agender, and all other magical folk with an alternative identity to the cisgender, heterosexual norm, hereby referred to as ‘the Forsaken,’ as unequal members of wizarding society is to be immediately repealed as the unfair, discriminatory rubbish that it is._
>   2. _All inheritances, properties, monies, positions of employment, Wizengamot seats, and other assets stolen from the Forsaken is to be immediately returned and reimbursed, with interest and back-pay equal to the value lost while suffering under the law of the heteronormative population of Britain, hereby referred to as ‘the Persecutors.’_
>   3. _Any children or dependents removed from the care of the Forsaken as a result of the Persecutors’ hypocrisy and cruelty are to be immediately returned to the custody of the wronged Forsaken. Exceptions may be made in cases of provable abuse or neglect; however, each case must be approved on an individualised basis by the leader of the Revolution, no exceptions._
>   4. _The incendiary press produced by The Prophet and other British Wizarding publications will stop immediately, and all publications will cease using all derogatory language for the Forsaken, save only when quoting a member of the Persecutors, to show them for the bigoted fools and hypocrites that they are. Banned terms include, but are not limited to: line-enders, line-thieves (when referring to the Forsaken), fag, ponce, nancy-boy, shirt-lifter, dyke, todger dodger, bean-flicker, arse bandit, pouf, and all variations thereof. A complete list will be published at a later date._
>   5. _The segregation of the Forsaken is to stop immediately. We are to be treated as equals to the Persecutors in all ways._
>   6. _The law must be reformed immediately to protect the Forsaken from further discrimination, violence, and segregation._
> 

> 
> _Until our demands are justly met and the Forsaken are treated as equals within British Wizarding society, we will enact our own form of justice upon the Persecutors. We will not be oppressed! We will not be silenced! We will not be exiled, tortured, maimed, abused, or killed! We will fight for our right to be treated as fellow human beings, and we will not do so quietly. You have been warned.”_
> 
> _So read the list of ultimatums given by the Revolution. Imagine this reporter’s horror and surprise to find among the signatures of the Revolution and its leader, the name of the Boy-Who-Lived! And a postscript from Harry Potter himself, reading:_
> 
> _“The bigots and purebloods of Britain have led me into war twice—once for my people and once for my freedom. I think it’s quite obvious they are not the capable leaders they would like us to believe they are. Perhaps it’s past time the Forsaken replaced them.”_
> 
> _Why has the Boy-Who-Lived joined in with such a traitorous organisation, one so wholly against everything that makes Britain great?_

 

The rest of the article went on to malign Harry for several paragraphs, as though Harry was a dangerous monster who had betrayed Britain rather than the other way around. They even had a few quotes from Wizarding Britain’s new darling, Ronald Weasley, indicating how shocked he was that Harry Potter could have betrayed them all so thoroughly.

Harry growled low in his throat. “Well. _This_ is going to require some damage control.”

“Indeed,” said a fuming Severus.

 

* * *

 

By morning in San Francisco, Harry’s response to the tripe in the previous paper was set to print the morning after next, or as soon as Anthony could get it out without being caught. But just before Harry had planned to head out for his summer job at the nearby magical bookstore, Percy popped by with a flyer in hand.

“Glad I caught you two before you went to work,” Percy said, his expression grim.

“Since you obviously come bearing news,” said Harry, “we’ll forgive it.” He sat in Severus’ lap and spread his arms over the man’s legs, giving Percy a glare.

Percy laughed. “Yes, yes, I know he’s yours, Harry. You’ve made that _abundantly_ clear. Now, do you want to hear why I’ve come or not?”

“S’long as it doesn’t involve you kissing him again,” Harry muttered, and Percy snorted.

“I like my bits where they are, thanks.” Percy sat on the sofa beside Severus and Harry’s chair and passed them the flyer. “That’s why I’m here. Those will be all over Britain by tomorrow night. The Wizengamot is still settling the details, but they’ve already started printing those—I nabbed one on my way out of the office.”

Severus read aloud, “Revolutionist group outlawed. Anyone found to be participating in said group will be immediately taken into Ministry custody and tried for high treason.” His eyes widened. “ _Treason_? I admit the Revolution is quite fanatical, but treason?”

Percy nodded. “Well, that tone in the letter they printed in the Prophet made it sound like they wanted to take over the government for themselves, so I can see it. The minute he read it, Doge panicked and called an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot, demanding they be tried as traitors.”

“Which means, if the Revolution strikes again,” said Severus in a grim voice, “Doge is most likely their next target.”

“Probably, but I’m not sure what we can do to prevent it. We can’t guard his property all the time without being caught, and the more people we have hidden under the anti-Ministry and anti-magic fields, the more likely we are to be detected. We can’t warn the aurors either without placing ourselves under suspicion. And with how mad Doge is being about this, I doubt he would even trust a former Order member to deliver the news without immediately suspecting them of collusion with the Revolutionists and slamming them in the holding cells without a trial.”

“Dear Merlin,” Harry said. “I know he’s a bit… odd, but he’s really that barmy about it?”

“Honestly, that might have been an understatement. He’s completely lost the plot.” Percy sighed. “That’s not our only problem either. I wasn’t able to grab a copy of the paper itself before I flooed over, but the Evening Star—they’re not part of the Prophet, Harry, and don’t have as large of a readership, but it’s certainly large enough to do some damage—claimed that you have a connection with the new “dark lord” and suggested you picked up the idea from your close association with Severus during the war.”

“That’s _bollocks_ ,” Harry cried. “Severus and I didn’t _have_ a close association during that time, and even if we had done, Severus was fighting _against_ Riddle!”

“I know that and you know that, Harry,” said Percy with a wry shake of his head, “but all the prejudiced sector of Britain is going to see is a ‘line-ender’ with a dark mark. In their eyes, the first is enough to convict him, let alone the second.”

“Shite. This is bad.” Harry jumped off of Severus’ lap and went to the fire, tossing a pinch of floo powder in almost before he reached it. “Ginny Weasley’s flat, Leeds, England.” The flames turned green, and Harry stuck his head into the fire. “Gin, can you come talk to me for a second?”

The woman appeared with a towel on her head and her dressing gown on. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry winced. “Merlin, I’m sorry to interrupt you, Ginny. I just… we have a bit of an emergency. Did Percy tell you what the Ministry is up to?”

Ginny grimaced. “No, I’ve been busy on the pitch all day. Catch me up.”

Harry told her about the articles in the Evening Star and the Ministry’s plans to declare the Revolutionists traitors.

“Normally, I wouldn’t care that much,” said Harry with a grim look, “as they _are_ rather that. But the problem is they’ve put my name in with them, and if I publish my counter _after_ the Ministry makes their announcement, it’s going to look bad. Is there any way to move my interview up to print tomorrow morning first thing, and to add a bit at the end addressing the nonsense in the Evening Star?”

“It’ll be a bit more risky,” Ginny said with a wince. “The monitoring spells—particularly the scrying spells—on the Prophet print room take some time to break through without alerting the entire building. But yeah, we don’t have a choice. We might have to send in reinforcements to help Tony so it gets printed in time, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Scrying spells….” Harry rubbed his chin. “Those are just seeing spells. If Tony could make himself invisible, he mightn’t need to worry about them, so long as he kept his casting out of sight.”

“The problem with that is they’re strong enough to see through most invisibility charms.”

“Really?” Harry grinned wickedly. “Just so happens I have an infallible invisibility charm that’s been aching to see a bit of action. _Accio_ Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak.”

He held up a hand and caught the silvery bolt of fabric as it sailed from the bedroom. Carefully, he passed it through the fire to Ginny.

“Give that to Tony and tell him to cast under the cloak, and he should be all right. Just be careful and get that back to me in one piece. Er, actually, tell him to use the _Obscurus Magicae Lux_ ward on his wand before he goes into the building, and it should hide the light from his casting for two hours, depending on his ward strength. Or, hell, send him over here before he goes in, and I’ll ward it for him. If I do it, or Sev, it should last a day.”

Ginny hesitated. “If I send him there, he’s going to learn about… Sevano.”

Harry gave Severus a questioning look, keeping a hand in the fire so the call didn’t end.

“Anthony is a trustworthy boy,” Severus said with a nod. “And he’s risking his job and his life for us. I feel the least we can do to repay him is to help him stay safe.”

“Understood,” Ginny said with a nod. “I’ll let him know we’re moving the publication up and send him your way as soon as he’s ready to go. It’ll be… close to about seven-thirty.”

“Got it,” Harry said with a nod. “We’ll be ready.”

“Thanks. The sooner he can get in and out, the better.”

Harry grimaced. “You might want to warn him beforehand then, otherwise we’re going to be delayed when he meets Sev.”

“Probably a good idea. I’d better go, though, if we’re going to update the article and move up its publication. We’re going to be pressed for time.”

Harry winced. “Sorry, Gin.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s the bloody bigots in charge who need their arses kicked.”

“Yeah, maybe, but not like this.”

“Yeah. Not like this.” She waved, and Harry ended the call.

“Well, damn,” said Harry with a sigh. “This is going to be a rough day.”

Severus patted his lap and, once Harry was settled on his legs again, passed him his coffee. “Sit with me for a while before you go in. I’ll try to calm you.”

“Not sure how much good it’s going to do with my nerves tied up in knots, but thanks, love.”

Percy stood and moved towards the fire. “I’m off then. I’ll call you if anything else happens before tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Percy. Be careful.”

Percy nodded, and in a flash of green fire, was gone.

“This just gets madder and madder every day, love,” Harry muttered.

“Yes, and it will until we see the Revolutionists stopped and real change brought to Britain, I’m afraid.” Severus shook his head sadly. “I fear the Revolution has set us back rather than brought us forward into more peaceful times.”

“Yeah,” Harry murmured, leaning into Severus for comfort. “Well, at least we’re safe here.”

“There is that,” Severus said with a smile.


	16. Rebuttal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry's interview and rebuttal comes out, and Percy suspects all hell is about to break loose._

#  **Chapter 16**

##  _Rebuttal_

### August 24, 1999

Later that night, Harry and the alliance sat around his living room on conjured chairs or each other’s laps, Padma and Luna on a beanbag on the floor. Grinning in anticipation, he accepted the morning Prophet and unfolded it with a flourish.

“Harry Potter Denies Involvement with the Revolution; Denounces them as Radical Fanatics.” He smirked and settled in on Severus’ lap. “Well done, Tony. This should shut them up for five minutes, I hope.”

Anthony gave a wry laugh. “Good luck with that.”

“Yeah. Well, let’s just read this marvellous piece of work, hmm?” Harry cleared his throat and started in.

  

> _Harry Potter met with this reporter earlier today at an undisclosed location to discuss the claims made by the Revolution the night before. He greeted me like a gracious host, served tea and biscuits, and seated me in a plush armchair before we began the interview._
> 
> _Reporter: ‘Good evening, Harry. How are you today?’_
> 
> _Harry: ‘I’ve been better, (name redacted to preserve the reporter’s anonymity). All I want to do is live my life away from Britain and its bigotry, and idiots like this group of Revolutionaries keep dragging me back in. What does a man have to do to get a little peace? Die? Well, I’ve already done that, and it wasn’t so peaceful on the other side either, I’ll tell you.’_
> 
> _Reporter: ‘I’m sure you would know better than I. So I assume from your previous statement, you’re not living in Britain any longer?’_
> 
> _Harry: ‘After they way they treated me? Merlin, no. I’m done with Britain for good. And I know you won’t ask, but since everyone else will, let me make it abundantly clear that I enjoy the anonymous life I have established elsewhere, and the world couldn’t pay me enough to publish my current location.’_
> 
> _Reporter: ‘Given what you’ve endured at the world’s hands, Harry, I can’t say I blame you. Now, is there anything you would like to say about this mysterious Revolution’s claims that you support their ideology and plans?’_
> 
> _Harry: ‘Loads. First off, I just said I’m not in Britain. How can I support a British organisation when I’m not even in the country? It’s too dangerous for me in Britain, and not even because of the remainder of the Death Eaters. I couldn’t even trust my supposed best friend not to try to murder me. Like hell I’m trusting an unknown organisation that seems to have no problems making ultimatums of the Wizengamot and kidnapping reporters.’_
> 
> _‘So, just to clarify, you do not support the Revolutionist or their plans?’_
> 
> _‘No. I am not involved with the Revolutionists at all. As I said, it’s dangerous for me in Britain. I’ve never attended one of their meetings and I don’t intend to start now.’_
> 
> _‘And their demands? What do you think of them?’_
> 
> _Harry sighed and took a moment to think. ‘The demands themselves, barring the bit about giving the Revolution free rein to determine whether a child is being abused or not, are reasonable. I think a neutral party should decide what to do with the children where abuse is a concern, not the leader of a faction of fanatics. But besides that bit, they’re essentially asking for nothing more than their freedom, safety, and equality. I don’t see a problem with that._
> 
> _‘The issue is in how they’re doing it. They abducted a reporter, handed her a list of ultimatums with a fabricated threat, and forced her into a magical vow to publish them the next day. She mightn’t have been able to publish it, had her superiors not given her clearance, and then where would she be? As much as I detest the Prophet’s main reporter and think she deserves punishment for her lies, it should be done legally. She should go through the courts and pay the legal penalties for libel and character defamation. Losing her life or her magic is too high a price for such a crime._
> 
> _‘And if that’s not enough, they used my name illegally and without my consent to publish threats and extortion against the main governing body of Wizarding Britain. That’s not right. That’s not going to help anyone, least of all those of alternative orientations and identities, who are already persona non grata in Britain. This will only make our situation worse.’_
> 
> _Harry shook his head and looked at me with such pain, such anguish in his eyes, my heart broke for him. ‘I already fought one war, my friend, and it cost me everything down to my own life. I lost my family, grew up in an abusive home, and I was tortured, abused, and damn near murdered on a yearly basis at school. I lost my brother—at least in spirit, my godfathers, and my godfather’s mate. And no thanks to prejudice and bigotry, I lost custody and access to my godson, too. I lost friends. Family. People I loved and respected._
> 
> _He wiped tears from his face and gave me a desperately sad smile. “Do you know I was in love with Severus Snape? I didn’t know it until after he was already gone, but that last night, when he was dying in my arms, he apologised to me. He told me he had never hated me and he was sorry for all the pain he had caused me. He grieved for me, while he was breathing his last breath. And I fell hard. I’ve never cried like I did at the anniversary of his death.’_
> 
> _Harry was overcome and had to take a minute to recover._
> 
> _I gave him some Calming Draught and tea to settle him. “I’m sure that if Master Snape was here today, Harry, he would appreciate all you have done for him since the war.”_
> 
> _“Thank you, my friend. Forgive my loss of composure. The pain of those memories still cuts so deep. But I brought it up to say that I lost the man I loved, too. Watched him die a brutal death and mourned him for over a year. Then, not half an hour after his death, I had to walk to my own death for the country, the people I loved. I had to sacrifice everything, down to my own life, and though I survived, the war didn’t end for me that day. The pain, the damage it inflicted didn’t magically vanish because Voldemort is gone._
> 
> _‘Besides the betrayal of so many of my friends, the loss of my home and all I’ve ever known, and the lingering evidence of the brutal attack I endured earlier in the year, I have scars all over me, nightmares every other night, and the intense fear that everyone I love will leave me or turn on me. It’s so bad, my partner had to have a pendant made that allows me to feel his emotions at all times. It’s been an enormous comfort, but I shouldn’t have such dreadful phobias, especially being as young as I am. I shouldn’t have had to fight a war and kill a dark lord at seventeen. I shouldn’t have had to endure any of it._
> 
> _‘But I did. I do. And I regret nothing but the lives we lost. As much as it cost me, as much as I sacrificed, I saved Britain. I stopped the bastard and ended the war._
> 
> _‘But Britain turned on me. I gave up everything to become a child soldier against the dark, and Britain betrayed me. I had nothing and no one left, and I was in desperately injured. Without my partner and familiar, I would’ve died in agony as a result of Ron Weasley et al’s assault. For the sake of my safety and sanity, I had to leave Britain forever. I had to leave everything I had ever known behind and start a new life in a new country._
> 
> _‘And, for the first time in twenty years, I’m happy. I have a loving partner, a job, and the freedom to go about in relative anonymity. I can, for the first time in almost ten years, grab a coffee from the shop down the street and not need to worry about being mobbed. For the first time ever, my life is my own._
> 
> _‘And damned if I’d throw that away to side with warmongering fools who are doing our people more harm than good. Damned if I would sacrifice the only happiness I’ve ever known to threaten Britain into treating me like an equal. I don’t even live there anymore. And I don’t want to be involved in another war. I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of fighting.’_
> 
> _He gave me a tear-edged smile. ‘Sorry for the rambling answer. The point was that I’ve given too damn much of myself to war as it is. I’m not about to jump into another battle for Britain, when Britain turned its back on me.’_
> 
> _‘Thank you for your story, Harry. I hope it touches the hearts of our readers, so that they might understand exactly what it is they have done to a good man and a war hero, who wants nothing more than the freedom to live his life in peace.’_
> 
> _‘Good luck with that. Britain only hears what it wants to hear, or my life would have been a lot easier during the war years. Britain certainly would have been aware of Riddle’s resurrection a lot sooner than nearly a year after the fact. We might have saved lives, if not for the wilful ignorance and cruelty of Britain’s supposed leaders.’_
> 
> _‘Well, perhaps your new country will be kinder.’_
> 
> _‘It is. It’s been lovely here.’_
> 
> _‘I realise you can’t tell us your partner’s name for safety’s sake, Harry, but is there anything you can tell us about him? Those of our readers still loyal to you would undoubtedly want to know that you’re taken care of and happy, even if you’re not in Britain any longer.’_
> 
> _Harry smiled warmly. ‘Oh, I am. He’s my world. I can’t say too much about him as concerns specifics, but I will tell you he’s a medical researcher here, and he’s done wonders to improve our existing treatments and make medical care more accessible to those who need it. He’s brilliant and brave and lovely, and I adore him.’_
> 
> _‘It sounds like you have good reason to.’_
> 
> _‘I do. He’s a wonderful man.’_
> 
> _‘I’m glad to hear it. We’re running out of time, though, so is there anything else you’d like to say to the British public before we go?’_
> 
> _‘Yes.’ Harry sat tall, his expression taking on the war-hardened look of a warrior. ‘Wizarding Britain, I do hope the situation with the Revolution can be resolved peacefully for the sakes of all those who don’t deserve to reap what you’ve sowed, but if it does come to war, don’t expect me to fight your battles again. I did that once. I died for you. I walked, cold-blooded, to my own death to save you all. True, it didn’t end up being a permanent situation, thank Merlin, but at the time, I didn’t know I would survive. Yet, I still did it. I still walked straight into Voldemort’s wand for you._
> 
> _‘And you tried to murder me because I chose to fall in love with a man. You slandered me, defamed me, and ran me out of the country because I refused to pretend to be what I am not. You continually glorify the monster who nearly killed me, who turned on me after seven years of friendship, and you vilify me for doing nothing more than loving a hero._
> 
> _‘And you have lost my loyalty forever because of it. I will not, now or ever, support any organisation, legal entity, or group based in Britain at all, save for the few friends who were loyal to me. The next person who dares to suggest I am in favour of any British cause at all will see me in court. An unbiased court. Those do exist, you know. Though only in places less backwards than Wizarding Britain._
> 
> _‘At any rate, when this rubbish blows up and you find yourselves in over your head, don’t come crying to me. I’m not going to play the hero again. You made this mess, and I won’t be the one to clean it up this time.’_
> 
> _‘A strong statement, Harry, but well-earned. Thank you for your time, and we’ll be sure this prints in the Prophet as soon as we can safely do so.’_
> 
> _‘Thank you. I hope it does some good.’_
> 
> _Mister Potter ended the interview here, but has since added this statement to address the claims made by the Evening Star in yesterday’s publication. ‘Anyone who believes the rubbish the Evening Star published yesterday deserves whatever chaos Britain reaps from its bigotry and hatred. Everyone knows I had no association at all with Severus Snape during the war, at least not friendly association._
> 
> _‘Professor Snape had to pretend to hate me so he could continue his efforts as a spy to the Order. I thought him a villain right up until the moment he gave his life for me, so I might have a chance of winning the war. Professor Snape spent nearly his entire life working against the ex-Dark Lord, and after what we suffered at Voldemort’s hands, the suggestion that we would willingly work with the next one is absolutely ludicrous._
> 
> _‘The truth of the matter, Britain, is that your own hatred and delusions have set up a crisis state in the country. The bigots in charge have hurt people of alternative identities far too much. They have acted like tyrants, and you now have an uprising on your hands because of your foolish behaviour. I had nothing to do with it, nor will I ever have any involvement. As I said before, I’ve washed my hands of Wizarding Britain._
> 
> _‘My last favour to you is this, a warning, from someone who is not too blinded to see the signs of war creeping up on the horizon: your obsession with blood purity has driven you to the brink three times in the past sixty years. You’re on the verge again now. Take your heads out of your arses and see the situation for what it is before it’s too late.’_
> 
> _Mister Potter reiterated at the end of his statement that he is not involved in the Revolution, or, indeed, in any British group. We, the undercover agents of the Prophet, wish him well, wherever he has chosen to start a new life, and regret that our country’s cruel laws have driven him from its shores. We mourn the loss of a great hero and pray that someday, future heroes will find Britain a kinder place._

 

Harry folded the paper once more, tears on his lashes and his hands shaking. He had been brutally honest in that interview, finally revealing the truth of all he had sacrificed. It hurt that the majority of Britain would ignore it. Would deliberately pretend not to see the good in him just to perpetuate their personal prejudices.

“Mate,” Anthony said in a wobbly voice, “dear gods. I had no idea….”

Harry gave him a searching look. “You didn’t read it first?”

“I had no time, Harry. As soon as Ginny gave it to me, I ran straight here. And after that, I had to hurry to get it in the morning edition before it went to press.” Anthony wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath. “I’m glad that, after all that, you found the professor.”

Harry leaned closer to his partner and kissed his cheek. “Severus found me, but yeah. I’m glad we have each other too.”

Percy nodded. “So are we all, but how do you think the country will react to this, sir? You’ve more experience of their idiocy than any of us.”

Severus sighed and clutched Harry tighter against him. “Those few still open enough to hear Harry’s tale will, undoubtedly, be affected. With any luck, they will begin to doubt the purebloods’ take on homosexuality, the press, and the Ministry, and begin to reevaluate their own views in kind. Most of those will be young, twenty or thirty-somethings, and that is good for future generations. However, that number will be far too small to enact any real change.

“As for the rest of Britain, they will most likely view Harry’s admissions as proof of mental illness and use that to further repudiate his claims. Then there is the Revolution. Harry has just revealed them as criminals and placed himself firmly in opposition to them. He will be persona non grata to them from now on, I think.”

“You can’t go back to Britain now, Harry,” said Padma, dark eyes full of worry. “Not as long as this conflict goes on. Both sides will be furious now.”

“I know,” Harry said with a wan smile, “but I have no intention of going back.”

“Good,” said Percy with a nod. “Britain doesn’t deserve you.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his temple. “What are we going to do about Doge? We all know he’s the next target.”

“I don’t know what we _can_ do if he’s that mad,” said Harry with a shake of his head. “Unless we send him an owl or a Patronus, but he’d probably just ignore it.”

“Most likely,” said Severus, “but at least then we would know we tried.”

“True. Should I send Fawkes, then?”

Severus’ fingers tightened around Harry's waist. “Oh Merlin. Harry, that is a _brilliant_ idea. Doge was fiercely loyal to Albus. Fawkes is the only messenger Doge might heed in spite of his madness. At least, I believe it is our best chance.”

“Let’s do it then. Fawkes, will you take him a letter? But be careful. He’s lost the plot, and I don’t trust him not to hurt you if you give him the chance.”

Fawkes trilled and landed on Harry’s knee. _“I will show myself long enough for him to recognise me, drop the letter, and apparate away.”_

“Good idea,” said Severus. “He may consider you to be a ghostly messenger of a sort and heed our note as Albus speaking from beyond the grave.”

“That’s the hope,” said Harry, and summoned a quill and parchment.

He used a spell to make his handwriting resemble the old man’s, drafted a quick warning, and sent it with his phoenix. Fawkes reappeared a moment later, looking harried.

 _“He is definitely mad,”_ the phoenix said with a shiver. _“He attempted to attack me the moment he saw me.”_

“Merlin!” Harry translated for those who didn’t understand avian. “I suppose this means we can at least rest assured that Doge is on guard for an attack?”

“So it seems,” said Severus with a frown.

“This is madness,” said Dean, his expression full of dark shadows and terrible fear. “There _has_ to be a way to stop this. There has to be.” His last words came out in a whisper, and Harry’s heart broke for him.

“Dean, we’ll find your brother,” he said and hoped it reassured him. “I don’t think Paul _would_ go as far as to kill anyone or assist with it, and I know the leaders wouldn’t let a squib anywhere near their front lines anyway. I’m sure he’s okay.”

Dean blinked hard and gave Harry a wan smile. “T-thanks, mate. I hope so.”

Ginny sat beside him and held his hand. “He’ll be okay. I’m sure of it.”

“Y-yeah. Thanks, Gin.”

She nodded and wrapped his hand with hers, the familiarity of the action revealing how long they had known each other intimately. Harry wondered if the spark would return, now that he was no longer in the way.

Draco sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “So what do we do now?”

“We need some good news,” said Luna with a smile.

“Good news?” Harry chuckled. “Chance would be a fine thing!”

Luna chuckled. “But we already _have_ good news. Severus’ potion is nearly complete. Soon, we’ll be able to continue our lines, better than anyone had ever imagined, and the hetero people will have no choice but to admit they were wrong.”

“It won’t be that easy,” Parvati cautioned.

“No, bigots always resist change, but in the end, they will not be able to deny what is staring them in the face.”

Severus frowned. “You believe we should announce the potion?”

“Yes, perhaps just a hint. That you’re working on a solution to assist those of alternative orientations and identities continue their lines without the need for a partner of the opposite sex.”

“Even that much will set them in a tizzy,” said Neville with a smile. “They would have to listen then.”

“ _If_ they believe it,” said Draco in a dark voice.

“Yeah,” Harry replied with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

Percy had barely been back on British soil for ten minutes when he saw the flyers hanging outside the Leaky Cauldron. One serviceable white with a blue border, and one bright yellow with a bright red headline. He jogged to the window and sighed. The Ministry had put up the flyers about treason already. At least Harry had gotten in his denial beforehand.

Above it, the Revolution had responded with a flyer of their own.

_Meeting of the Revolution in the usual place, 8 PM. Identities and disguises will be checked at the door. No weapons allowed on the premises._

Percy frowned. “Weapons?”

What wizard would think of carrying weapons? Besides Severus, of course. Wizards didn’t _need_ weapons when they could kill each other just fine with their wands.

Whoever had written that poster was most likely Muggleborn, or at least Muggle-raised. That would narrow their search pool quite a bit. Percy mused on the possibilities as he made his way to the Ministry for work, but he simply hadn’t enough information to pin down a suspect. Well, perhaps the leader would give himself away at the meeting that night, though he doubted it. The man wasn’t as clever as Severus, to be sure, or he never would have included a line about weapons and given away his ancestry, but he was clever enough. They would have to work hard to find him.

Lucky for the alliance, they had a master and an apprentice spy on their side. The Revolution wouldn’t know what hit them… once Percy could take off for training.

“Three more days,” he muttered to himself as he sorted court cases and filed them away. “Just three more days, and I’m off.”

He couldn’t wait.

 

* * *

 

That night, Percy went to the meeting, eyes alert and mind clear of incriminating thoughts. Two burly men with identical scowls removed his disguises at the door, as he had expected, and he went through into the meeting area. Most of the Alliance was already present, and Percy made his way to his family and friends with a forced smile.

Charlie gave Percy a similar smile and held his partner tight against his side. “What do you imagine we’ll discuss tonight, Percy?”

“Most likely the situation at the Ministry. Though I’m not sure what we can do about it.”

“Yes,” said Nicolae, his eyes full of too much understanding. “Is grim situation for all of us.”

“Indeed, we should—”

The leader stepped onto the platform, and Percy cut himself off.

“Welcome, all, to the headquarters of the Revolution,” said the leader in that strange, distorted voice. He moved to the centre of the stage and stood at the podium. “I trust by now that all of you have seen the rubbish the Ministry published this morning? They call us traitors and criminals when they are the ones segregating and ostracising an entire population. They call us line-enders when their own stubborn adherence to blood purity is destroying our bloodlines from within. Fewer and fewer wizarding children are born each year, and it is all down to the lack of variety within our gene pool.”

A few mutters started here and there, but the leader ignored them.

“Every developed wizarding country except Britain has embraced progress and welcomed those of all races, births, creeds, orientations, and identities. Every developed country besides Britain has seen an explosion of power and massive increases to their birth rates as a result.

“We have just survived a war! We are weak and underpopulated as a result of You-Know-Who’s reign of terror. We, more than anyone, need more power, more wizards, more _children_. Instead, our _lovely_ government chooses to segregate us. To weaken us further with hatred and division. Our hero chooses to malign and abandon us, to call us criminals and thieves, to warn the public against us.

“They want us to be silent. They want to shove us in a corner and forget we exist. To pretend we are not here.

The leader slammed his fist on the podium. “But we will not go quietly into the night! We will not be silenced! We will not stand peacefully by and let our country go to ruin! We will _fight_ , and Ministry or no Ministry, Potter or no Potter, we _will_ survive!”

A raucous cheer met this statement.

As the leader paused for their applause, Percy muttered to Charlie, “Is what he’s saying true? About the birth rates and such?”

Charlie nodded grimly. “Britain has the lowest wizarding birth rate the world over. Romania’s is over three times ours. Our family is an anomaly among British purebloods. Honestly, I think that’s part of the reason the traditionalists are so gung-ho about homosexuality and continuing the lines—we’re dying out, and they know it.”

Nicolae snorted. “They are doing the wrong thing to change this. They spite their head to cut off their face.”

“I think you mean ‘cut off their nose to spite their face,’ but yeah, you’re exactly right. Bloody bigoted idiots.” To himself, Percy thought, _‘I reckon Severus’ potion will fix our birthrates in a hurry if Luna and Padma are really going to have triplets. Will the others be similarly fertile? I suppose only time will tell.’_

The leader had begun speaking again. “Do not despair, friends. Guard your secrets and your identities outside these walls. Outside, we must blend in. But within our sanctuary, the revolution begins now. Who will stand with me?”

Another ear-shattering cheer vibrated the hall.

“Make no mistake,” the Leader said in a grim tone, “fighting alongside us may be dangerous. I will do my part to keep everyone safe, but the Ministry is determined and may root us out anyway. Those of you unprepared to face the risks may choose to leave, but if you do so, you will be _Obliviated_ at the door. A necessary measure, I’m afraid, so that you cannot reveal the identities of our compatriots. Who wishes to abandon our noble cause and take the coward’s way out?”

No one moved. Percy hardly dared to breathe, lest the Leader sense his duplicity.

“Ah, I am happy to see this,” the man said after a moment. “Thank you for standing with me today. And now, to put the protection I mentioned in place.”

The Leader waved his wand in a series of complicated gestures, muttering spells under his breath. Lights of all colours flickered first over the Leader, then the doors, then the windows, and finally, over the crowd themselves. Percy felt something lock within him and wished he had been able to shield himself against the foreign spell, whatever it was.

“And that,” the Leader panted, “will keep the Ministry from discovering our identities, or at least, offer some layer of protection.”

Percy reeled internally. That kind of magic was obscure and difficult to manage. This Leader had an interesting skillset, to be sure.

“Come, my avenging angels,” said the Leader once he had recovered his breath. “We must put our plans in motion.”

The leader motioned to a room in the back, and several people at the front of the crowd marched towards the doors. Percy tried to identify them, but their faces and figures were hidden under heavy cloaks and glamours. Damn. He really needed to find Paul.

With a sigh, he gave it up and bid his family goodbye. He would learn nothing else here tonight.

He apparated home and called up his Patronus, a silver vixen he called Phoebe. He petted the beast’s head and sat in preparation for his message. “Phoebe, tell Harry and Severus that I learned a little more about the Leader tonight, if not about the Revolution’s plans. He’s either Muggleborn or Muggle-raised, extremely charismatic, he calls the former Dark Lord by the common name, he has power and knowledge of obscure warding magic, and he’s hacked off at Harry and the Ministry. I couldn’t find Paul. They have the faces and bodies of all the ‘Inner Circle’ members, which he is calling avenging angels, obscured. They’re planning something right now—I think we all know what. Do I make myself useful at Doge Manor or stay out of it?”

Percy Summoned a cup of tea while he waited and munched on some biscuits. Twenty minutes later, Severus’ doe answered.

_“Don’t be a dunderhead. Doge is mad as a hatter right now and paranoid to the point of being delusional. Go near the manor, and you may step into a trap. Stay well away. And thank you for the information, though I am not sure how much it will help. That is still a rather large suspect pool. Go to bed. I will see you on Saturday.”_

The doe bowed and vanished.

Percy sighed and Banished the remainder of his snack. “Well, Doge, I hope you’re just as paranoid as Severus seems to think, or I’m afraid tonight won’t end well for you. Damn.” He shook his head and curled up in his four-poster, not bothering to undress. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and struggled to find repose, at least for a moment.


End file.
